Peccatum in Carne (Sins of the Flesh)
by CocoMingo
Summary: Latin teacher Maleficent Moore strives to protect her student Aurora Rose's heart. In the process, she steals it and unearths decades old secrets about herself. As Maleficent realizes that her only love has sprung from her only hate, Aurora must overcome the sins of her father to mend the pieces of a shattered life.
1. Delictatio (Pleasure)

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Outro," M83 (The dream)**

**"Starwaves," M83 (Aurora's walk in the woods and reflection of Maleficent)**

**"Obliterate My Fate," Asphyxia (Aurora dancing)**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Delictatio**

* * *

Aurora sat in the back of her father's Bentley, scowling her displeasure at the man who had ignored her all the way from London. Apparently, only people who did as he wished were worthy of privileges such as basic manners.

Her predicament resulted from refusing to return the unwanted attentions of yet _another_ son of one of her diamond merchant father's business partners at a dinner party the week before. In response, Stefan had informed Aurora that she needed reminding of the family values of her faith, and what was expected of her. Without consulting Aurora, he enrolled her in St. Augusta's Catholic School for Girls in North Yorkshire.

She didn't know why he couldn't continue to ignore her, like he had for most of her life. Why did he truly care? Aurora wasn't naive enough to assume it was out of his love for her. She was seventeen, and about to take final exams at Queen's Court School. Now, Stefan Rose had decided to exercise his parental control.

Put bluntly, he was a hypocrite. Her father was rude and inconsiderate on his best days and cruel on his worst. He didn't live up to his own expectations, but expected her to live up to his.

She knew what those expectations were at least, if not his motives. In order, Stefan had some very specific intentions for her life.

1\. To marry her off to one of his crony's sons.

2\. Many grandchildren produced by said union. _Heirs._

The heartless bastard's last gambit against Aurora's disobedience was a thinly veiled threat to send her seven-year-old sister Tara to live with distant family in Scotland.

Sweet Tara, who was still adjusting to the untimely death of their mother a few months before, was Aurora's Achilles heel. She didn't care about her inheritance, and Stefan knew that. He also knew why she held no interest in any man. His rants about "family values" were his way of saying that no daughter of his was going to be allowed indulge in "unnatural behaviour;" especially as it would produce no grandchildren to keep his business in the family.

Any sense of loyalty she had towards her father vanished as he drove through the tall iron gates of the boarding school. He left her at the main doors with her suitcases, alighting down the stairs without a word of goodbye.

Aurora turned towards the looming brick and mortar fortress of the school and attached church, her eyes shaded with the enormity of the buildings' span. Unaware of her internal struggle, students and staff went about their day around her.

Looking up, she noticed movement from a third floor window, and spied two women staring. The blonde made enthusiastic gestures down at her, and even waved. Next to her, a brunette stood almost in the shadows, her pale skin contrasting sharply with the darkness. She didn't wave, but simply observed.

Frowning, Aurora turned to look back at the driveway where her father's car had been moments ago. He'd long since retreated, and it made her feel even more alone in the world.

_'King Stefan,'_ she sneered inwardly, and gazed out of the iron gates and into the idyllic countryside.

Her father thought he was a King.

He was a moron.

* * *

**(Nine months later)**

The steely resolve that Aurora had come here with had deserted her.

Whenever her mind moved to the reality of her fate once she'd graduated school, it conjured the image of a husband she knew she would be forced to take. The very idea of a man touching her, the actual physical act itself, made her want to shut down completely. Aurora's survival tactic in the face of something she never wanted was to disconnect.

Her grades were still excellent, and upon graduation she could have easily obtained a career, rented her own place and told her father to go fuck himself. But, his earlier threat to send Tara away stayed ever present in her mind. He was the type of ruthless prick to do it, too.

So, for the greater good and the safety of the little sister that she loved so very much, Aurora stopped fighting.

Then again, there was something she'd never anticipated in the beginning. Someone, actually.

Maleficent Moore, the school's Latin teacher, with her long brown hair and fiery eyes of green that seemed to swallow Aurora whole. Her toothy, sharp smile, her dry wit; her intelligence, and knowledge of the world beyond this awful place had drawn the student to her like a moth to a flame.

Aurora was beyond in love with her, and had been for some time. However much that was true, she was always careful never to let it show. What would have been the point?

The memory of her first class with the teacher took over her daydreaming, and Aurora was freed momentarily from the worries and cares that laid so heavily on her shoulders.

_"Name?" the scarlet lips dark as sin curled around the word like it was sex itself._

_"Aurora, Miss Moore," she'd answered petulantly._

_"Your Latin is terrible. See me after class," Miss Moore commanded before clearing her throat. Inexplicably, the papers on her desk suddenly seemed very interesting._

A smirk had fallen on those lips then, one of many that would grace them in the semester to come as Aurora had fumbled her way through the dead language. Miss Moore's long fingers would rest just close enough to Aurora's hands during their private tutoring sessions, for much too long to be entirely proper.

Even if the teacher had a meter-high stack of papers to grade, she always insisted on their tutoring sessions. Some days, Miss Moore would sit relatively quiet at her desk, her red felt pen squeaking over the papers as she would hum in approval or hiss in distaste. Aurora noticed on those days that she was unusually tired, dark circles marring the beautifully smooth skin beneath her eyes.

On other days, Miss Moore was more animated, and would walk the rows of desks while shooting out words for Aurora to conjugate verbally. As excited as she looked whenever Aurora answered correctly, she didn't cheer aloud or make a big fuss. Instead, she would stop along side her desk and gaze down proudly.

Those looks made Aurora's heart thunder, and she would press her fingernails into her palm to keep from saying what she really wanted to. She longed to escape, and sometimes, she prayed that Miss Moore would be the one to whisk her away.

* * *

_Aurora Rose._ The young lady had only been at the school for near a year, and she was completely new to her class this semester – but oh, how she wished she'd known this little sprite for far longer. Obsequious to all other teachers and staff, the girl would answer Maleficent's questions during class with quick, tart replies before blushing and visibly crawling back into the quiet, almost gloomy shell she displayed to everyone else. There was a dazzling intellect beneath the girl's sadness, she was sure - and it bothered her to no end that it might go wasted on the world if Aurora could not be coaxed out of her melancholy.

She wished in vain that whatever had drowned out Aurora's light could be crushed, but Maleficent Moore had no idea what the issue was. The girl would simply clam up if she asked a personal question other than those related directly to the speaking or writing of Latin.

Maleficent knew that Aurora was nervous around her. Frankly, she couldn't blame her; she was very tough with her grading of the newcomer, as she had a lot of catching up to do curriculum wise. So, she had proposed extra tutoring in an attempt to weasel her way into the broody girl's mind, and hopefully increase her fluency in Latin as well.

If she didn't know better, Maleficent would have thought that Aurora had been violated, knowing herself what a terrible experience it was to come back from. She wouldn't have wished it on anyone, let alone the little supernova that burned brightly with pinked cheeks whenever she would stop at her desk, golden tresses lit like a halo in the classroom sun.

Gentling her typically stern manner in acknowledgment of the girl's skittish nature, the first time she had actually tried to lay a comforting hand on Aurora was last week. The resulting reaction was expected, but altogether depressing.

The girl acted frightened of her. How typical - and yet...

How could Aurora Rose be frightened of her when they'd spent nearly every other afternoon with one another for just under six months? They'd dissected the Latin language in far more depth than any of the other students would have dreamed of, prior to university. Even so, Aurora avoided personal questions like the plague.

It was just as well, Maleficent frowned. If Aurora answered a personal question of hers, the student might ask one in turn.

Maleficent didn't do personal questions.

Still, Aurora's behavior last week refused to leave her in peace while still unresolved. She sat at her desk and leaned against a hand in consternation, remembering the Wednesday afternoon as if it were happening right in front of her.

_Maleficent reached out to rest a hand on Aurora's shoulder as she peered down towards the chicken-scratch the student liked to call legible writing. Aurora gasped, and shrunk back from the hand like it had burnt her, eyes glassy with tears that refused to fall._

No, this would not do, not at all. Maleficent made the decision then and there that Aurora needed kindness – small gestures of comfort that might unlatch her mind and heart.

_She hesitated, leaning back against a desk to look into those deep blue eyes. "What hurt has been done to you, sweet girl? I shall erase it – they shall be but a memory forgotten," she promised._

_Aurora whimpered in response, so quiet it could have been considered ambient noise. "I'm... I'm fine, Miss Moore."_

Today was one of many that had passed since last week that Maleficent wished she had said the things on her mind. There was something about Aurora that she couldn't quite place - a familiarity and affinity she'd not felt for another person in a very long time. She wanted to protect the student from whatever nameless monster was haunting her. Whatever, or whomever it was - she would have slayed gladly, if only the girl had asked.

But she hadn't, and Maleficent didn't push.

No matter now, as the class was graduating in a few short weeks**. **Aurora had barely been within her reach for the better part of a semester, and she'd yet to unlock the secrets that rested behind those eyes.

True, her Latin had improved. Some days, Maleficent could coax a smile from the petite blonde, but it was rare. It was as if she were looking into a mirror darkly; Aurora reminded her so much of herself.

She had been that angry, lonely teenager once, her heart bound in agony.

* * *

Never in her life had Aurora lost her impeccable self- restraint until the moment Miss Moore had unexpectedly laid her hand on her shoulder the week before. She'd retreated from it, unintentionally creating the impression to her Latin teacher that she had feared it.

The truth was painfully different: Aurora craved the woman.

The physical boundary now broken between them following the touch caused Aurora's desire to ignite, and led to her adopting even more stringent measures of self control in her teacher's presence.

That is, until it escaped the only way her subconscious knew how - by way of dreaming.

_Aurora stood in a dimly lit room she didn't recognize, dressed only in a white tank top and her black boy shorts. The surrounding dark was lit only by a handful of flickering candles, and a full- length antique mirror was the only piece of furniture present._

_She moaned softly as beautifully tapered fingers slid around her narrow waist from behind. The mirror revealed Maleficent to be the presence against her. The older woman's hair was loose, her perfect silhouette sheathed in a black silk nightgown._

_Her breath quickened as Maleficent covered Aurora's right hand with her own. Sparkling green eyes locked with vivid blue ones in their mirrored reflection._

_After a few moments in this position, Maleficent guided their joined hands upwards to Aurora's breast. Squeezing, she applied enough pressure to make her groan, and slowly whispered; "Repeat after me: Quod delectatio non sit peccatum," - **"Pleasure is not sin."**_

_As Maleficent gently moved their intertwined fingers downwards, the grip of her instructor's hand tightened. "Puh...Plea-" Aurora stammered._

_"Pudor me, non fiant," Maleficent spoke softly, but with confidence. **"Shame does not become me."**_

_Unable to speak considering what the woman she adored was doing to her, Aurora could only whimper in response._

_"Diligunt me et te in conspectum," Maleficent continued as they reached Aurora's most sacred flesh. ** "Love thyself in view of me."**_

_Her teacher's final instruction coincided with their hands slipping under the material covering her guarded purity, and almost sent her over the edge. As Maleficent worked Aurora's fingers against her sex, the brunette's other hand squeezed her from behind, creating an overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation._

_Aurora's head fell backwards against the woman's chest. A sliver of exposed skin caught her eye, and she turned her head sideways, straining to kiss it._

_In response, Maleficent's left hand found and lightly gripped her throat. Holding her steady, the hand tilted her face back up, remaining like that while the other brought Aurora to her peak._

_The yearning in the scorching green eyes was palpable as they gazed down upon her. It only intensified the climax._

_"Touch me, Aurora," Maleficent pleaded, her voice hoarse._

* * *

Aurora could barely look at Miss Moore after that dream. The strength of the feelings it stirred terrified her. She didn't even dare write of it in her diary, lest one of the nuns decided to come snooping around her room, looking for contraband when she was in class. Such was the standard of Catholic morality at St. Augusta's; if it ever got out that she had dreamed of her half dressed Latin teacher making her fuck herself with her own hand before telling Aurora to touch her, they'd both be burned at the stake. Probably in the school yard, just before lunch.

She was afraid of what she might do in the few weeks left of term. The rawness and desperation of the dream paired with the knowledge that she was nearing the end of her time with Miss Moore left Aurora feeling reckless.

Two weeks before final exams, it was the last official day of classes, save the end of term tutorials. Today also marked Aurora's dreaded 18th birthday.

Pieces of paper shuffled the hallways, telling of raves and parties in the woods to celebrate the upcoming graduation. Always having been obedient to avoid her father's wrath during the past year, Aurora had never partaken in the illicit parties. Tonight, that would change.

During lunch, she opened the pile of birthday cards that had arrived that morning from her friends at home. Noticing one with her Father's handwriting on it, she scowled.

Of a mind throw it in the trash bin after she read it, or just rip it up and save herself the trouble, she decided on the former.

There might be news of Tara.

Tearing the plain white envelope open, she retrieved the birthday card without ceremony and began to read. She was prepared for nothing but the self-centred rubbish her father usually came out with, but the breath in Aurora's lungs froze as she read the lower half of the card. The words blurred on the celebratory piece of material in her hand as tears came unbidden to her eyes.

**Phillip.**

**Engagement.**

**In the family interest.**

Aurora sat paralyzed, her eyes staring blankly out of the cafeteria window. By the time the bell rang to signal end of lunch and return to lessons, she'd only just managed to compose herself enough to attend Latin class.

She caught Miss Moore's eye, her defeated expression conveying such a sadness that Maleficent had placed her tea back down on the desk, and instructed the class to continue where they left off the last day. She then asked to speak to Aurora outside in the corridor.

Years of self-discipline had always served Aurora well, but not today. Tears had begun to fall freely from her eyes now, and all she could do was stiffen like a board.

Ever aware of her precarious emotions, Maleficent did not gesture for a hug, and simply touched her arm.

Her unasked question as to what had Aurora in such a state was answered by Sr. Gertrude, the school's French teacher. As she passed, the sister smilingly offered her congratulations to Aurora on her engagement.

When the nun was out of sight, Maleficent sighed. It was obvious this news was the source of her distress. "This wasn't your decision?" she inquired.

Aurora shook her head, and looked at the floor.

Seeing the principal headed their way, Maleficent waited until she had passed before speaking further. "Are you comfortable telling me what is going on here, Aurora?"

She shuddered, and took a breath. "I…"

Suddenly, a commotion arose from inside the classroom, followed by a classmate's sniping. "I'm going to smash your face in, Lisa Harper!"

"Wait here," Maleficent murmured. Striding to the classroom door, she opened it and hollered for the first time Aurora had ever seen. "Felicity McGovern, report to the Principal's office. Now!"

"But Miss Moore! She threw-" several voices entreated.

"NOW!" Maleficent shouted, her shoulders shaking in barely concealed anger.

Even in her teary state, Aurora was surprised by the teacher's outburst. Felicity stomped out of the room and past them, all the while muttering under her breath.

Remaining at the class room door, Maleficent spoke icily. "If I have to come back in here, you'll all be doing three hours of extra Latin tonight instead of whoring with your boyfriends in the woods at your end of year free for all, do I make myself clear?"

A sea of shocked faces met hers. Miss Moore had never raised her voice to them, nor had they ever heard her say such language. She could be scary, and she was strict, but she rarely lost her temper.

"Good," she finished smartly, and closed the door with a slam. Returning to the corridor, her mood lifted a little at seeing a small smile on Aurora's face.

Aurora was about to speak when another nun came towards them.

Not bothering to hide her irritation at the interruption this time around, Maleficent addressed the interloper with a glower. "Yes, Sr. Veronica - what is it?"

The middle-aged nun raised an eyebrow at Miss Moore, and turned to Aurora instead. "Your Father is here, Miss Rose. He has your fiancé with him."

Maleficent saw something inside Aurora die at that moment, and held up a hand to halt any further conversation. "She'll be along in a moment Sr. Veronica," she intervened, "When we're done here."

Looking the aristocratic beauty up and down, the unimpressed nun shuffled off to the staff room.

"Her class is somewhere around here," Stefan's loud voice rang out, from down the hallway and around the corner.

Noting the look of fear in Aurora's eyes, Maleficent instead turned her attention to the two sets of feet clomping towards them. They hadn't seen Aurora yet, and she wasn't about to let them.

Borderline hysteria crept into Aurora's voice as she began to beg. "Please, Miss Moore…"

Understanding immediately, Maleficent quickly moved her into the utility room and out of sight. "Stay here and hide. Be silent," she whispered furiously.

The heavy wooden door of the closet shut, encasing Aurora in complete darkness. She listened as the voices of her Father and Philip inquired of Miss Moore as to her whereabouts.

Feigning ignorance, Miss Moore lied boldly that she had no idea where a Miss Aurora Rose was.

Philip argued to Stefan that she'd be coming home soon anyway, and there was no need to hang around. Mercifully, her father was in a passive enough mood to agree. It was quite something; under normal circumstances he would have never backed down, however trivial. Something in his voice sounded uncomfortable, and on edge.

A few moments after their footsteps faded back down the hall, the door to the utility room opened, and Maleficent gestured for her to come out.

The bell signalling class change sounded, visibly alarming her unusually wary teacher standing beneath it. Soon after, chattering students poured out into the corridor, leaving them no chance to continue their conversation.

Thanking Miss Moore with a sniffle, Aurora kept her head down and disappeared into the throng of students pushing past.

* * *

After dinner, while everyone was getting ready for the end of term rave that night and texting their friends from nearby areas, Aurora went for a walk. A storm of emotions coursed through her as she crossed the hockey fields and river until she was in the woods. It was still twilight and not dark enough for it to be a bad idea to be on her own here. In the span of a few hours, the nightmare she knew awaited her after graduation had come much too close for comfort; first on a piece of paper, and then almost face to face.

It wasn't enough to tell her in her birthday card that she was expected to marry a complete stranger, she thought indignantly. No, they had to invade the last refuge she had from the situation by coming to the school.

Graduation was in fourteen days. School would be over, and on that day she would be expected to return to the family home, a condemned woman.

Sure, she could have left and refused to marry Philip, but her baby sister Tara was only eight years old now and still under Stefan's guardianship for many years to come. By God, he'd exploit it to the last. She lit a cigarette nabbed from a classmate's stash and sucked the smoke down greedily, not caring whatsoever that her Father might consider the action unbecoming or unladylike. He smoked after all - why couldn't she?

Her feelings were a raw mix as light rain began to fall, but Aurora kept walking. Rage, fear, and powerlessness taunted her. The memory of Miss Moore's actions earlier that day returned to her mind.

The proud woman had turned viciously on the class for interrupting Aurora when she was vulnerable, and protected her from her Father and Philip. At the time, she'd wanted to tell Miss Moore how much it had meant to her; how it had enveloped her heart with warmth, comfort, and an unspoken promise of safety.

Her love for the older woman was even stronger now, and a fresh stream of tears dripped from Aurora's already stinging eyes. As reality hit, and the feeling of the loss she would now suffer struck her, she slumped down into the wet leaves. A wail of grief escaped from the depths of her being.

Several woodland animals scattered at the profound howl of anguish that echoed through the surrounding forest. The thought of leaving Maleficent for good caused a pain that emptied the remaining air in Aurora's lungs; the finality of it burning and ripping through her body like poison. Convulsions shook her form as she screamed and screamed.

She'd never even given Miss Moore a hug.

* * *

Later that night, the end of term woodland party was in full throttle. The other students looked at Aurora strangely, and wondered aloud if she'd taken some of the drugs that circulated the rave.

Ignoring them, she danced like she was the only one in the universe besides the woman in her head. Her body swayed, fueled by the force of pure rage to the pounding beat.

As the music became faster and more urgent, so did Aurora's movements. Lost in her own hell, her hair was damp with sweat, eyeliner smudged from the furnace of heat generated by the bodies around her.

The sudden, shrill whistle that pierced the air could barely be heard over the loud music. Those close enough to have heard it screamed to their classmates to run, just as several nuns and the groundskeeper rushed the clearing to grab at the revelers.

The music she'd been lost in was abruptly cut off, and Aurora squealed in panic. Terrified by the shouting, she sprinted off into the woods to hide, while a horde of girls scattered in different directions past her. Her lungs burned from the exertion, and the fact that she'd smoked several puffs of a cigarette that was _definitely not a cigarette_ with some of the boys that had crashed the party from a neighboring school.

The voice of Sr. Eileen, their fierce Mathematics teacher, bellowed after them. "YOU LOT WAIT 'TIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"

Those who had now procured concealment tried to contain their laughter as Sr. Eileen stormed around uttering profanity after profanity. "Don't remember that being in the Bible," someone snickered as the raging nun let loose with another expletive laden threat to those who were hiding.

Crouching down behind the thick base of an oak tree a good distance away, Aurora tried to slow her wheezing gasps, lest the noise give her away.

Abruptly, a hand snatched at her jeans and pulled her into a bush. Another hand slipped over her mouth to keep her from yelping, while hot breath exhaled against her ear. Aurora's heart skipped painfully before she registered the sensation of soft breasts pressed against her back. They heaved in time with her own, and she blushed as her nipples peaked at the realization.

_"Don't move, Aurora,"_ Maleficent warned, her voice low and husky as shadows surrounded them.


	2. Pedicabo (Fuck Me)

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Soon We'll Be Found," Sia **

**"Diamonds in Her Eyes," Owl Eyes**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Pedicabo**

* * *

As the last of the students and nuns exited the clearing, Maleficent clung even tighter to the girl she felt trembling beneath her hands. She felt ashamed that pleasure coursed through her heart at the feeling of holding Aurora closely; her logical mind screamed that it wasn't proper, and that Aurora was probably scared out of her wits.

Measuring her words to be even and clearly pronounced even though she was quiet as air, Maleficent murmured next to Aurora's ear, "We're going to have to make a quick escape if you don't want to be writing lines for days. I know that your father and fiancé are in town, and that you want to avoid them, is that right?"

Aurora turned her blue eyes to squint in the dark. "W-what do you suppose we should do? I can't go back to the school now – the nuns will know I've been in the woods. Father and Phillip are probably trolling the hallways looking for me."

Inhaling so sharply that her nostrils flared a bit, Maleficent stared back in deep thought before speaking. Though quiet, her clipped tone gave away that she was less than pleased. "And you did not choose this… marriage? It's absolutely preposterous in this day and age. What does he have over you that you're complying now that you're eighteen?"

"My… sister. He's threatening to send my sister away to Scotland," Aurora's face crumpled at the admission, and she began to cry.

Worried that one of the nuns might have sent another staff member to comb the woods for more students, Maleficent quickly hushed the girl enfolded in her arms. "Shh, shh… We don't want to give ourselves away yet. I'm taking you back to my place, and we're going to _talk, _Aurora. Not this dancing around that you like to do. Real, gritty, straight talk – do you understand me?" she commanded.

Aurora's eyebrows arched in surprise at the firm tone, as she'd only ever been talked to like that by Miss Moore when she'd (purposely) misconjugated some verbs to add extra time to her tutoring lesson last month. When she first had heard it, it sent a shiver down her spine and caused warmth to crawl over her skin like the blush her cheeks must have shown. "Of course, Miss Moore," the young woman supplicated, and sniffed back her tears.

"Maleficent," she murmured back at her. Being called Miss Moore by the girl no longer held any appeal to Maleficent, and while she found it somewhat unsettling, it just felt... right to be called by her first name.

The teenager was dumbfounded. "What? Is that some kind of new noun I don't know yet, because I really don't think it's a good time for a tutoring less…"

"My _name._ My name is Maleficent," she interrupted, scoffing and rolling her eyes before grinning.

"Oh! I've just never heard it said before, is all." Aurora stammered. "Mal..eh-fi..sent?" she tried it out, peeking shyly at her teacher.

At the verbal stumblings, Maleficent wondered how many times the girl had read the name and tried to say it aloud. There were so many ways it could be pronounced, but the correct way was to let it roll off the tongue like a river. Her resounding smile had Aurora's mood swinging from despondent to glowingly happy in the blink of an eye, and for that Maleficent was grateful. She felt drunk on the emotion - or perhaps it was leftover goofiness from watching the party. Whatever it was, it was better than the young woman crying. Maleficent's eyes grew wide at viewing her name pass Aurora's beautiful lips, and her mouth grew dry. Coughing to break eye contact and clear the knot in her throat, she managed to choke out a response.

"Good. Good pronunciation. Come on, let's make a run for it." She held out a hand for Aurora to take.

Take it, she did – when their hands finally met, they were both stunned by a zap of static electricity. Both snickering quietly, they peered around the trees. The coast seemed to be clear.

"All right, then. The first parking lot has a slightly worse for wear '90 Jag convertible. Duck down and throw yourself in the back. I should have an emergency fleece back there, so throw it over yourself and _hide._" Maleficent laid out the plan. "I'll walk slowly to the car and get in, so I don't draw attention. I will let you know when you can come out of the blanket."

"Okay!" Aurora grinned excitedly and took off through the trees. Once she'd reached the lot, she ducked down as instructed and located the blue XLS with the rusty bumper. Tossing herself over the side of a door with an oomph, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She scrambled for the tartan plaid fleece and hefted it over herself, lying down like she was part of the scenery.

It would be warm beneath the blanket, and when Maleficent heard Aurora snuffling around, she cracked a grin because of what the blanket must have smelled like to the girl; her perfume_. _ It showed a modicum of trust and gave further credence to the theory when after inhaling deeply, Aurora burrowed even further.

Opening the driver's side door sliding into the seat near Aurora's head, Maleficent then buckled herself. "Stop wiggling, you little beast," she teased when there was more movement from behind. "Someone is bound to see you."

Aurora giggled underneath the blanket, "Aren't victims of kidnapping supposed to wiggle around and make noise?"

Maleficent scoffed and feigned offense, "I hardly think this kidnapping, young lady. You waltzed right into my vehicle, and I am just in too much of a hurry to stop my car." Her voice had taken on a dark quality to it, and she shifted the Jag hard to reverse into a three-point-turn, and then forward.

"You can come out now! Ready to fly?" she yelled back to the lump beneath the fleece in the back seat once she'd reached the main road. It was quite a ways to town, and Maleficent loved to zip the little car along these countryside twists and turns.

"I guess!" Aurora yelped, poking her head above the backseat. Her golden curls blew in the wind and her eyes began to water. "This. Is. Awesome!"

A sideways smirk came to Maleficent's lips, and she floored the gas pedal. The noise from the mufflers was deafening, and Aurora squealed as she tumbled back from the force.

* * *

Trying not to think of the hell that would break loose if she were discovered at her Latin teacher's cottage, Aurora followed the instructions Maleficent had given her upon their arrival.

First on the list was a bath to rid herself of the rank sweat and dirt from the forest rave. Taking the last of her clothes off, she wrapped the large cream bath towel around her naked form before inching the bathroom door open. Her dirty clothes she shoved outside the door, hoping that Maleficent would make good on her offer to wash them.

She closed the door again, her fingers hovered over the lock. Still aroused from the unanticipated events and bodily contact with Maleficent earlier that night, Aurora's mind began to run away with her.

_'Did she bring me here for a reason other than to get me away from Father? Maybe she wants me to leave the door unlocked,' _she wondered silently.

The thought that it might be Maleficent's intention to creep in while she was naked in the bath left her trembling. Holding onto the cold enamel sink, Aurora took a very deep breath.

"I've put your clothes in the laundry, " came Maleficent's voice from outside the door.

Aurora startled, and took a few more breaths in quick succession to fight her unrelenting urges. '_If I open the door…'_

"In the meantime, I've left a spare bathrobe out here for you," her teacher continued.

She didn't answer. Her body tingled with desire, and her mind was driving her into a dangerous place. Already, the surrealism of the night had warped her. What was one more insane act?

Reaching for the handle, Aurora turned it and slowly pulled the door open. The adrenaline rush of her daring instantly plummeted as she was met with a deserted hallway, and a navy bathrobe folded neatly on the floor.

Cursing her luck, she knelt down to pick up the garment and practically slammed the bathroom door shut. Neglecting the lock in her temper, Aurora dropped her towel and climbed into the tub. Tears of frustration slid down her face as she curled up, allowing the luxurious bubble bath and hot water to wash over her skin.

She felt ridiculous for thinking only moments ago that Maleficent brought her here under any other pretense except to protect her. _ 'Like she always has, for nearly a year,'_ Aurora mused.

Unfortunately, the toiletry bore the same scent as Maleficent's perfume. It didn't help her thoughts in remaining logical, and Aurora found herself going crazy as the smell of flowers, fresh linen, and evergreens emanated from the clouds of steam enveloping her.

The water eventually grew cold, which dampened her excitement a little bit. She quickly toweled herself dry, and threw the bathrobe on before opening the bathroom door.

"In here, Aurora," came Maleficent's rich voice from down the stairs.

With those three innocuous words, Aurora's heart began to race once more. She shook her head, and rolled her eyes at her body's reaction.

'What_ the fuck do I think is going to happen?' _her inner critic demanded as she walked down and towards the living room.

_'That she's going to throw me on the floor and… then what?' _Aurora pushed the thought from her mind to avoid her face betraying her as she entered the living room.

Maleficent sat in an armchair by a blazing fire and gestured for her to sit in another, across from the teacher. "Happy Birthday Aurora," she murmured softly, and with a small smile.

To her right, Aurora spotted a small table. Her gaze had been caught by the flickering light on it, which belonged to one lit birthday candle on top of a chocolate cupcake. The flame wavered slightly in the slight draught running through the cottage.

That finished her. Breaking down in sobs at such kindness, Aurora suddenly found herself being held securely in the arms of the older woman, who moved them both to the armchair intended for her. Utterly overwhelmed, she wept helplessly.

"Now I am glad to have forgotten it here," Maleficent joked nervously, petting her hands over Aurora's damp hair. "Please let me help. It's breaking your heart, and I can't help unless you ask me to," she urged.

Eventually when the sobs subsided, Maleficent sat back to gently break their contact. She looked Aurora in her tear stained face, and tried to look equally stern and trustworthy. "You must take legal action against your Father. You cannot allow him to do this to you. _I will not allow him to do this to you_."

The last shred of sanity Aurora had left in that moment was all that prevented her from kissing Maleficent. Instead, she cried.

"Come here," the Latin teacher murmured with a sigh, and folded Aurora back into her arms.

Holding on to her unexpected saviour, Aurora cuddled drowsily into her, no longer finding it within her heart to care what it meant other than comfort. She didn't remember falling asleep in Maleficent's arms, or being carried and laid down in a considerably large bed. She didn't feel a warm duvet being tucked lovingly over her, or the hand tenderly caressing her face, and slept on.

In the middle of the night, she found it hard to wake from a most pleasant dream.

Confused and yearning for the comforting physical contact she'd remembered, Aurora's sexual thirst and longing to be held by Maleficent became one. Unaware of her present surroundings, her hand impatiently pushed aside the bathrobe she wore, and her fingers desperately sought the skin beneath. Moaning uninhibitedly, Aurora touched herself while gripping her thigh hard. Her words came, heavy with sleep but unmistakable: "Maleficent, please. W-want you. Inside me…"

* * *

Downstairs, Aurora's tossing and turning woke Maleficent. Stretching out across the couch that she had taken to maintain a semblance of dignity, she winced and bit back a curse at a crick in her neck. Her bleary eyes looked at the clock on the wall, and she stumbled off of the couch to stand up and stretch some more before groaning at the time._ 4:07AM. _

_"__Maleficent…inside,"_ Aurora called out from upstairs. Was she having a nightmare?

Ambling up the stairs, Maleficent rubbed her eyes and yawned. She'd never get back to sleep with all the racket, and was worried about the guest resting in her bed. Knocking softly on the door, she called out, her voice sleep-weary. "Aurora? Aurora… are you awake?"

The only response from inside the room was the thump of the bed as Aurora probably rolled over again, along with the whisper of sheets. A long moan echoed the hallway, and startled Maleficent with it's force.

Desperate to stop the horrible sounding nightmare, she forewent politeness in favor of barreling into the bedroom to stand at the end of the bed. Her eyes lit up in shock at what she found.

Instead of finding Aurora curled up in pain, she was spread wide on the bed, tangled in sheets. Her golden hair fell in a tangled halo around her head, and her eyes were screwed shut. The bathrobe Maleficent had let Aurora borrow had fallen away from pert breasts capped in peaks of soft rose, and one hand was currently massaging the left into an aroused pebbling. The other hand was deep in girlishly cute underwear, teasing as she rolled her hips upward.

"Dear God…" Maleficent whispered, her throat suddenly tight as she realized what was really happening. She firmed her resolve to wake the girl, no matter the embarrassment. Hiding what she'd seen would only lead to further humiliation for Aurora down the line, once she found out. "Ehm – Aurora? Wake up, Aurora."

Still, the young woman continued her ministrations. Fumbling at herself, her pink lips loosed another whimper. "Maleficent, please," Aurora begged.

Strangely unable to deny the request, Maleficent's body moved of its own accord. Scrambling to the edge of the bed, she reached out to touch a naked shoulder. She meant to shake Aurora awake, but was sorely mistaken in her plan. Without warning, a small hand came from a breast to grasp tightly against her wrist and yank down. Still mildly sleepy, Maleficent toppled on top of Aurora with a yelp.

"Best dream ever," Aurora murmured breathily as she leaned her face up to capture Maleficent's lips in a kiss. She mumbled questions aloud then, about why dream-Maleficent was so stiff and cold as she wrapped both of her arms tightly around the her. Kissing Maleficent full on, Aurora then began to move feathery light pecks down the expanse of her neck. Upon reaching a her collarbone, the girl nipped.

"Fuck," Maleficent muttered, bringing a hand to Aurora's curls and running her fingers through them. Sucking in a breath, she couldn't help but be aroused, no matter the awkward situation. "Wake up, you minx," she growled.

"Mmmmm," Aurora pulled back, finally opening her eyes completely. "You taste even better than you smell."

At loss for what else to say, Maleficent responded, "I do?"

Reality seemed to come crashing down on Aurora's consciousness as the weight of Maleficent atop her became both claustrophobic and scandalous. Her rosy lips fell into an 'oh!' as she realized that her teacher was really and truly on top of her, and that they had just kissed. "Oh, fuck me," she stammered nervously.

A graceful eyebrow rose on Maleficent's face, and she smirked down. She'd never heard Aurora curse before, and it made the girl beneath her seem that much more real, rather than simply an idea, or the star of Maleficent's train of thought most days. "Fuck you?"

Aurora squeaked when she heard the curse word, and rambled her response. "Yes! I mean… No! Not like that… But, you're here in my… _your_ bed! _With me."_

Frowning a bit, Maleficent was sure she'd misunderstood what Aurora had been dreaming now. "Is that a problem? I merely came upstairs to wake you from a nightmare, and you pulled me in. I can leave, if you wish me to."

"N-No! Don't leave. Stay," Aurora pleaded.

Intuition was telling her to take this moment and accept what had been given by fate, for it might not ever come again. Maleficent knew that, or at least could appreciate the shared, serendipitous emotion. While she considered that, Aurora's hand reached forward and grasped at the front of her nightshirt, fisting it tightly to draw her closer again. The grip was too much for the delicate buttons, and they popped and scattered, leaving the shirt to drift open.

Maleficent's eyes wandered down at the sensation of cool air meeting her chest, and wondered at what the mischievous blonde would do next. She refused to push forward unless Aurora made the first move. Fortunately, her patience was rewarded. A dainty hand reached forward to brush at her right breast tentatively, and it made her tremble and gasp.

As Aurora gazed up questioningly to her would-be lover, she looked nearly bowled over at the fierce look that had taken residence in Maleficent's eyes before explaining herself. "I wasn't having a nightmare," she informed gently. "Um, I was dreaming of you; that you were making love to me." Biting her lip at the confession, she winced inwardly for a rebuff that was sure to come.

But honesty was something of value - a trait that a teacher ought never scold for - and intensely attractive to Maleficent. Trying to maintain her cool in the face of such innocence beneath her, Maleficent felt her lips curl back anyway at the admission. She felt wicked for the expression, but at four o'something in the morning, her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. The words that she thought came instantly to her tongue, and she found no use in stopping now.

"The Latin verb 'to fuck' is quite useful in many situations. It can be futuere or futuo, but for our more base purposes it would be said pedicare. It seems I have been remiss in teaching you," she began the lesson. Darting forward, she captured Aurora's lips in a scorching kiss before her hands began to roam. Her voice became exceptionally hoarse with need, even to her own ears. "Say it with me: Pedicabo. Fuck me."


	3. Dimitte (Let Go)

**A/N: The literal translation of what Aurora says is: Shut up, and make me come (back) often. She doesn't know (and wouldn't have been taught) at this point how to say "to come," in the sexual sense: gaudens.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"La Tortura," Shakira**

**"Te Aviso, Te Anuncio," Shakira **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Dimitte (Let Go)**

* * *

Maleficent looked down upon Aurora, straightening slightly to hold her own body just out of reach. "Say it," she directed.

Emboldened by the words spilling forth from the lush lips, Aurora's eyes sparked with cunning. "Claudo, et fac me venturus est," she insisted instead. _Shut up and make me come a lot. _It was probably the incorrect verbiage to be using at the moment, but she couldn't bother to care.

A gasp caught in Maleficent's throat at her mischievousness, and she pulled at the bathrobe loosely hanging from Aurora's form. Taking the belt from the garment, she then tossed the robe towards the corner of the room. "Naughty," she tsked, and wrapped a hand gently around one of Aurora's wrists. "Shall I show you what is done to naughty girls?"

The inquiry made the hair rise on the back of Aurora's neck. She managed to nod vigorously, and clasped her hands together prayer style atop her breasts. Watching intently, she was intrigued when Maleficent wrapped the fabric around her wrists in an intricate fashion.

Aurora giggled at the tie and its pretty knots, and wiggled her fingers. Pleased that she hadn't been bound too tightly, the act itself became exhilarating and erotic rather than frightening. She pushed her body upwards, more desperate for contact with the gorgeous woman than the air she breathed at that moment. "I never would have thought you to be quite this, um... kinky."

In response, Maleficent straddled her and slid her torn shirt off, revealing the body she had only dreamed of seeing. Placing both hands on either side of her head, she leaned down holding her mouth millimetres from Aurora's own.

What came next was shocking to her. Nudging Aurora's flushed face to the side, Maleficent slowly dragged her tongue up a heated cheek. It elicited a strangled noise from Aurora at the primal act, and sent a shiver of satisfaction down her body. Sensing the power and experience of the woman that she was at the mercy of, Aurora's body flushed all the more with excitement. She strained at the silk around her wrists as Maleficent's mouth found hers, catching her in another intensely passionate kiss. One hand moved down her body to stop her struggling.

Turning her head away, Aurora drew breath. "Untie me," she pouted, her hands itching to touch the skin on display.

Maleficent resumed the kiss for a moment before moving down Aurora's neck. "Hmm, I don't think you really mean that," she chuckled into the shell of her ear.

The hot breath and scraping of teeth on Aurora's neck was maddening, and her senses were becoming overwhelmed. "Yes, but... not fair," she whined.

Temporarily abandoning her attentions elsewhere, Maleficent turned Aurora's face towards hers. "Don't think I won't put you across my knee, young lady," she threatened playfully.

Desperate to gain the upper hand and using all her strength, Aurora surged forward and hooked her bound wrists over Maleficent's head and around her neck in an instant. She used the momentum and gravity of the movement to send them falling backwards until she was victoriously astride.

Wriggling her wrists free of the satiny bathrobe tie, Aurora placed her palms on Maleficent's chest and declared her intentions. "I want to fuck. How can I do anything to you without my hands?"

Despite the proclamation, her blush rose up her neck and to the tips of her ears, giving away her nervousness. Her bare breasts glistened with perspiration from the moonlight peeking through the bedroom curtains as she began to move slowly and experimentally against Maleficent, moaning softly at the sensation.

There was little resistance from beneath her, as Maleficent seemed perfectly content to lie there and stare for the moment. Aurora picked up the pace atop the older woman, who was watching her in combined awe and amusement. She considered that perhaps a more gentle show of obeisance might spur her into action. "God, I want you. _Please,_" she moaned.

With that simple word, Maleficent seemed to lose her mind. She rose upwards in a flash to flip Aurora, and held her down. Roughly pulling the pair of cheeky pink panties down her thighs, Maleficent ripped them from the trembling body.

Aurora bit her lip in determination. Two could play at this game, she decided. Reaching around, she grasped at Maleficent's underwear as well, desperately attempting to remove the slip of black lace, and eventually succeeded with a satisfactory rip of the fabric. Sliding a leg around Maleficent's waist, she cried out and lifted off the bed as the sensation of hot, moist skin ground against her own.

Bliss began to fog her mind as she caught sight of their reflection in the vanity table mirror across the way: Maleficent was grinding herself between Aurora's legs, and hooked a thigh up and around her slim waist. Feeling a pressure begin to gather in her abdomen, Aurora leaned forward to cry out.

She must have sounded scared, because Maleficent stilled immediately. "Are... Are you sure, Aurora?" her teacher, now _lover_ asked, breathy sighs punctuating the thick air around them.

"Yes! Oh god... Oh god, please," Aurora panted, fumbling her hands towards Maleficent's dripping sex, only to have them intercepted and put above her head by the wrist.

Maleficent blew out a huge breath, and appeared to be convincing herself to be more gentle. Aurora doubted that the teacher thought her to have previously sampled the pool of other young ladies in the dormitories, as many of the school girls did. While that was true, Aurora didn't confirm the fact out loud. The last thing she wanted was for this to end on account of her perceived womanhood, or lack thereof. "I want you, Maleficent. Really, I do," she babbled.

"Hush now," Maleficent murmured, and ran a reassuringly heavy hand down her belly. Sliding a finger slowly into Aurora's depths, her thumb began to circle the swollen flesh just above.

As Aurora felt the slick flesh begin to relax, her lover added another finger. The feeling of being stretched open so reverently released a flood of emotions through her veins. A scream tore from her mouth as her back arched out of pure instinct, presenting her breasts to be worshipped. The keening was replaced by almost embarrassingly deep moans as she felt Maleficent's mouth sucking and nibbling at her nipples and the flesh around them. Fire licked its way from a pool in her belly to wash over skin that felt too tight. It was as though she was going to burst from within, and if she didn't trust the woman pulling such sensations forth, she might have been frightened.

Minutes passed, and her voice became hoarse. She attempted to move her hips in the same rhythm that Maleficent's hand was going, but soon lost it.

Aiming her lips towards Aurora's ear after kissing her way there, Maleficent tugged the earlobe lightly. Curling her fingers upwards in a come-hither motion, she whispered things that only the flutterings in Aurora's stomach seemed to understand. The flutterings swelled to full on clenching, and Aurora stiffened at the sensation, her cries to the heavens becoming more and more inarticulate by the second.

"Dimitte, Aurora… Release it. Let go."

* * *

It was very early morning, and while frantically sorting through Aurora's clothing and toiletries in the dormitory room, Maleficent cursed. What did teenagers wear these days? What was necessary, and what wasn't? She'd been happy with two pairs of black jeans, an assortment of white, grey, and band shirts with alternating holes and slashes, and a leather jacket.

Inwardly, she cringed. Here she was now at twenty-nine, wearing a Burberry walking coat over one of her multitude white button down shirts. At least one thing hadn't changed: she still wore boots. Though, looking down wryly at her Wellies, these weren't the kind she used to wear.

Outside the room there rose quite a ruckus, and the sound of men arguing with a woman. As the handle on the door began to jiggle, Maleficent dropped the purloined items and stuffed them quickly underneath a blanket. '_Shit' _she cursed internally.

Standing full height and adopting a look of sternness, she waited with baited breath at who would enter.

As the door swung open, Stefan Rose marched angrily inside. The snivelling brat that was Aurora's fiancé Phillip and Sr. Eileen followed him.

Catching sight of Maleficent, he roared. "And what is this? I told you she was missing, Sister! You tried to keep me from her room, and when we enter we find not Aurora but some deviant. What kind of a school are you running here?"

Vibrating with anger, the vicious Sr. Eileen pointed at Maleficent. "Deviant?! Why, Mr. Rose! That is our beloved Latin professor, Miss Maleficent Moore. How dare you insult her!"

Turning towards Maleficent, she looked the woman up and down, her nose curling slightly. "Bit heavy on the perfume today, dear. Are you looking for Aurora, too?"

A blush crept up Maleficent's neck at the nun's offhand comment. She'd purposely sprayed the scent heavily; in her rush to get here before the rest of the staff, she'd foregone showering. Knowing that nuns could smell the stink of sex from miles away, she'd figured it was better to smell like a French whore than a whore, period. It seemed to be working, though she planned on being _slightly_ honest with the other staff regarding the issue at hand.

Clearing her throat and looking innocent, she answered airily. "Oh no, Sr. Eileen. Aurora is at my home in the countryside. I found the poor thing wandering about the woods, frightened out of her mind. I think she was caught up in that party nonsense."

"Oh-ho! I hope you gave her a good tongue-lashin', Mallie!" Sr. Eileen exclaimed. "I'll loan you a few rulers to break over her behind, if you need."

The blush climbed to the tips of Maleficent's ears, and she made a motion with her hands to close the line of questioning. "Uh, thank you Sister. No need for that; I've punished her as needed."

Stefan's eyes narrowed, showing he wasn't fooled. "And what purpose would bringing her to your home suit, madam? To beat her in privacy?"

Malice burned in her gut as Maleficent turned to address the sleazy man. Still, she kept her voice light and cheery... for now. "Why no, Mr. Rose. Aurora informed me that she was frightened for her life as we walked back from the woods. Something about being forced into an arranged marriage, and her poor innocent sister being held prisoner as some sort of bargaining chip. I thought surely she must have cocked up the craziness, so I brought her to my home for some tea to soothe her. Poor little beastie, she passed out right in her arm-chair," she finished with a tsk.

The anger at the veracity of the statement spurred Maleficent to circle Stefan Rose, and Phillip. She knew that her expression was fierce, because the boy took an involuntary step away when her gaze zeroed in on them. "Imagine my surprise when I did some asking around and found her tale to be true! Can you just imagine, Sr. Eileen? Surely the sisters and the Monsignor didn't know about this!" her voice strained in scandalized shock.

"Saints preserve us!" the nun exclaimed, clutching her chest. While glaring openly at the men, her hand came away to point viciously at them. "How could you, Mr. Rose! I shall have the Monsignor call the bishop, if I have to. Aurora is lucky that Miss Moore found her before you lot."

Not one to be argued down, Stefan pointed at the bed where a lump stuck out like a sore thumb. "And what was she doing collecting Aurora's things, hmm? Does Aurora plan to stay with your staff now?"

Maleficent spoke up quickly to shoot him down. "Yes, Mr. Rose. She'll be safe and happy with myself. The sisters will help me, I'm sure."

"Indeed!" Sr. Eileen nodded vehemently. "Out, Mr. Rose. Out of this sacred establishment, now!"

To rub more salt in Stefan's wounds, Maleficent tutted next to the nun, "I'll bet this puny brat he meant to marry our Aurora to isn't even Catholic. Are you, boy?"

Utterly confused by the chaotic conversation swirling around him or why his religious affiliation mattered, Phillip shrugged and answered truthfully. "No, I'm Scottish, so I'm a Presby."

Sr. Eileen's resounding howl had Maleficent grinning widely at Stefan. Inside her mind, she imagined her inner child was dancing a jig.

"Begone with you, sirs! Off the school premises, before I call Mother Superior to handle you, if you please!" the nun prodded them out the door.

Turning back to glare at Maleficent, Stefan sneered. "This won't be the last time you'll have to deal with me, Miss Moore! I will be seeing you very soon."

Smirking back, Maleficent retorted sweetly, "I'm sure, Mr. Rose."

Sr. Eileen slammed the door on their astonished faces before throwing her hands up in irritation. "Mallie, get some clothes for her. I'll have a novitiate pack up the rest and bring it over during the week. Will this mean you're cancelling Bridge at your cottage for this Saturday?" she wondered aloud.

"No, no. Bridge is on…" Maleficent reached forward to squeeze the tiny fireball of a nun's hand in solidarity. "I'll make those yummy butterscotch scones, too. Just make sure to tell the headmistress what's going on with Mr. Rose, and have Monsignor Bennett call the diocese anyhow. I feel like we're going to have quite the problem on our hands."

Leaning forward, Sr. Eileen glared. "We're going to have even more problems _if you don't start showering._" Shaking her head, her lips quirked into a half-smile. "Confession, Friday night. Be there, young lady."

Turning towards the door, she paused and looked back. "Oh, and your scones? I want a dozen for myself, if you please?" she requested pleasantly.

Maleficent began to rub her temples, feeling a headache brewing. She should have known that the nun would realize what was going on far before an explanation had been formulated. "Of course, Eileen."


	4. Innocentiae Furatus (Stolen Innocence)

**A/N: This chapter goes down some dark avenues. If the kink of consensual spanking bothers you, please take this as your warning. There is also reference of violence against a minor by an adult. **

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Innocence," Halestorm**  
**"I'm Not an Angel," Halestorm**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Innocentiae Furatus (Stolen Innocence)**

* * *

Aurora awoke with a start. Feeling shy in the cold light of day, she sought the bathrobe lying in a crumpled heap in the corner of the bedroom. Hastily picking it up, she covered herself before stepping out onto the landing. Most parts of her body hurt. Turning her wrist upwards, Aurora examined the strips of bruising which matched the length of Maleficent's fingers down her pale skin.

Smiling faintly, Aurora descended the stairs wincing at ache in her upper legs. She wasn't quite walking like a cowboy, but her gait wasn't far off. 'Having your legs wrapped around a beautiful woman's waist most of the night must do that,'she mused with a snicker.

Heading into the bathroom, she consulted her reflection and squealed. Maleficent had ravaged her, and multiple hickeys adorned her neck, shoulder and chest. She couldn't go back to the school like this! The nuns would nail her to the wall; probably in front of the whole school as well to make their point and discourage anyone who might be contemplating similar behaviour.

The strange, wheezy voice of their biology teacher Sr. Dolores echoed in her mind. 'Catch it at the root,' was a favourite saying of the more conservative nuns at St. Augusta's. Sr. Dolores was conservative to the point of refusing to elaborate on human sexuality and its possible genetic components when the class had come to it in their textbooks some months earlier. The girls were old enough to realise that this was likely due to the fact homosexuality was mentioned in the chapter and that their teacher would rather self flagellate with a rusty car arial, refuse a tetanus shot and die like a martyr than talk about such an "abomination."

That lesson had been early in her stay at St. Augusta's. Angry that the subject matter was being ignored, Aurora had spoken up, and promptly assigned detention. As punishments went – and Aurora had been the recipient of many at the hands of her disciplinarian nannies as a child and teenager - it had been worth it to see the nun squirm.

The worst nanny she'd ever had was Stella Evans from their church. Admired by Stefan due to her religious conviction and morals, she had been hired to mind Aurora when she was twelve years old. Discreetly given free reign by Aurora's emotional terrorist of a father to administer discipline as she saw fit when her mother wasn't home, Stella regularly sent her into the cold dining room at the back of the mansion to "reflect upon her actions," most of which didn't constitute anything worth reprimanding. Often required to sit there for often over an hour, Aurora would shiver while trying to avoid looking out the French doors, lest she see some paranormal spectre darting about between the trees at the back of the vast property.

That was when she began to know what it was like to truly hate someone.

Over the next 18 months under Stella's rule, Aurora's cell phone was confiscated and everything she watched on television monitored. Church became mandatory.

One Sunday at church, there was a reading from the sacred scripture. "Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind, because it is an abomination!" the priest had boomed. "Defile not yourselves with any of these things with which all the nations have been defiled…"

Outrage burning in her soul at the message that conflicted so vastly with the idea of a loving God, Aurora had glared angrily at the priest. She even remembered imagining that something might fall on his head, and stop his cruel fear mongering. The final reading that day was on Hell; that place of eternal torment, tears and misery, loneliness and desolation. Aurora had been there, she was sure.

"Whomever continues to be closed to the Gospel is therefore preparing for eternal destruction, and exclusion from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might!" the priest had announced to those gathered. Aurora withered in her pew at that. She had grown to wonder if God actually had problem with whom she was attracted to, and wanted to believe in the idea of His love. Over the years, Aurora grew bitter, and came to believe that she couldn't rely on that God for anything.

As she pondered the memories, Aurora wandered the cottage. Entering the living room where she'd fallen asleep in Maleficent's arms by a blazing fire, her eyes fell upon the now dark, and cold hearth. As she meandered to another room, it became apparent that her teacher had quite a fondness for all things Native American. Books lined shelves in the little alcove library on all manner of tribes, discourses on land claims in America, Huguenot and Creole traditions. Some of the books were in French, which rested next to Latin literature and poetry, interspersed with classics and older fiction.

Wondering at a beautiful leather knit and feather item hanging from the window – a dream catcher,she reminded herself – her fingers explored every manner of trinket on the windowsill. There were shells, pieces of wood, and even a small canning jar full of dirt.

"Quite finished invading my privacy, are you?" Maleficent teased from the doorway, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

Startled into scrambling away from the earthly treasures, Aurora's first response was to give lip back to assert that she wasn't frightened, even though her heart hammered a startled rhythm. "You had no problem invading mine last night," she replied with attitude.

Turning around, she held open a corner of her bathrobe exposing the evidence of Maleficent's lust the night before. "You left me looking like I'd been attacked by a starving vampire," Aurora spoke tartly. "I think I've earned the right to do what I like around here." A challenging smirk followed her statement.

Without warning, Maleficent lunged and toppled Aurora to the floor.

She clung to the woman, kissing her with a fury and atonement all at once. Maleficent lifted Aurora from the carpet, only to pin her against the cream coloured wall.

Refusing to give up quite so easily, Aurora grabbed handfuls of silken mahogany hair before wrapping her thighs around Maleficent's waist. It resulted in a delicious pressure against the one body part she thought could handle no more, and she broke the kiss to moan aloud.

Moving them away from the wall, Maleficent sat with Aurora in her arms and pinned her again - this time with only a stare. "Your insolence is becoming tiring, Miss Rose. The sisters provoked me to beat you soundly for the whole woods party. It reminded me that I've been quite remiss in disciplining you for that adventure."

Aurora blushed at the insinuation, and a sly grin spread across her face. Taking Maleficent's face in her hands, she chuckled darkly. "Then punish me. Spank me."

Shockingly, her lover moved to oblige before she could insist that she'd been only kidding, and Aurora bit her lip to stifle a giggle. After all - how much could it hurt?

While pulling Aurora forwards to position her across a thigh, Maleficent pushed the end of the bathrobe up past her waist. A loud smack echoed throughout the room as her hand administered the first strike.

"Paenitet enim me esse peccatum - I repent for my grievous sins,"she began, her voice hoarse even though she'd only just started.

Aurora's fingers clawed the carpet. "P-Paenitet enim me esse peccatum," she stuttered, tears coming unbidden to her eyes. _It did hurt!_

"Mea Maxima Culpa – My most grievous fault," the teacher chanted before clearing her throat and laying her hand again. "Again?"

"Mea Maxima Culpa!" Aurora yelped, unable to control the quivering of her thighs. With each smack, shocks of pain bloomed into heat so similar to the one she felt when she came for the first time under Maleficent's skilled hands. "Y-Yes, again!"

"Purgatio erit per doloremmeum – My purification shall be through pain."Maleficent kept going, though her hand must have begun to sting.

How could it not? Aurora's rear was sore, and it smarted like hell. She screamed as Maleficent dealt a final blow. "Purgatio erit per doloremmeum!"

Her mouth hung open in shock as she felt wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs. She'd known that such actions could be considered erotic, but to actually experience it for herself was breathtaking. Laying face down over Maleficent's legs, she breathed rapidly, her punishment having been soundly delivered. Reaching back to grasp the instrument of her pleasure, she brought Maleficent's hand to her mouth and kissed it.

**"**Good girl," Maleficent whispered, her hand coming to rest upon the small of Aurora's back. "My my," she continued admiringly while surveying her well spanked bottom, "Your love of field hockey certainly has paid off."

Aurora bit her lip again as she felt the tips of Maleficent's slender fingers trail across the back of her thighs, travelling upwards at an agonizingly slow pace. Hands rested gently on the globes of her rear, caressing and soothing wherever it had struck.

Shivering at the feeling, Aurora sighed pleasantly before sliding off of Maleficent's thighs to look upon the woman's gloriously reddened face. It was probably that way from the exertion of holding her down, but that only made Aurora enjoy the sight more. Her body ached to be near, but it wasn't as if she could just lay across Maleficent's lap all afternoon.

Sensing what she needed, Maleficent opened her arms up wide, and Aurora gladly tucked herself within the tight embrace. Humming in appreciation for the feeling of protection that blanketed her, she whispered her gratitude. "Thank you."

The arms that held her jumped a bit with their owner's astonishment. Atop her head, Aurora could feel the strong, sharp chin of Maleficent move as she spoke to her just as quietly.

"No, thank you," her lover responded. With a sigh, she joked lightly, "I hardly think my Confession on Friday evening as ordered by Sr. Eileen will be half as pleasant. She knows you're here."

Aurora threw herself back promptly to bark a laugh, hooting and snorting as she stood.

Whether it was from true amusement, or anxiety at their recklessness and precarious situation, she wasn't sure.

* * *

Maleficent entered the confessional under duress. Sr. Eileen and several tittering novitiates that had collected Aurora's things and brought them to her over the course of the week stood a few feet away, and she hesitated the urge to hiss at the simpering teenagers.

Sitting down, she fidgeted with her coat to unzip it before folding her hands primly across her lap. Fairly mortified at the entire situation, she sniffed and held her chin haughtily to combat the feeling. The wood partition rolled back to reveal the silhouette of Monsignor Flaherty – as if she couldn't tell the man who had been one of her most staunch protectors and confidantes for over a decade. It was quite surprising however, as it certainly was not his shift for confession. Gritting her teeth, Maleficent realized that Sr. Eileen had called the big guns down on her. _Meddling penguin._

The Monsignor crossed himself, and with an irate sigh she did the same. Maleficent began to recite what she knew by rote. "Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been…" she paused, her heart falling at the statement she knew needed to be truthful, "a really, really long time since my last confession. These are my sins…" Gulping and then taking a cleansing breath, she began speaking rapidly in nervousness. "I have partaken of the sins of the flesh. Ehm, twice? Twice; both fornication and impurity."

Fingernails digging into the palm of her hand to steady herself, Maleficent continued while the Monsignor listened on. "I've coveted something that was not mine to take." _Aurora's innocence. _A single tear rolled its way down her hot, shamed cheek. "I haven't been good at attending daily Mass, making excuses for my busy schedule even though I know nothing is more important than my eternal salvation. I actually haven't been to weekly Mass in a few months."

Her head rolled back to hit on the wood of the confessional as she spoke, and her voice cracked in equal parts sorrow and anger. "I find myself doubting, Father. My happiness is my sin, and it has been for years. How can I reconcile that?"

Monsignor Flaherty sighed heavily, and began to flip through his pages to look for a kind verse for the fallen angel he knew to be seated on the other side of the divide, but came up empty. "Some times, my child – the line between sin and happiness is difficult to ascertain. The evilness of the world seeks to envelop us in its foul embrace, singing songs of peace and safety. But there is no peace or safety there, daughter. It is merely an illusion to lead you into the darkness. Once inside, you'll come to realize that love isn't meant to hurt as it does when you feel the sting of sin when accompanied."

"But," Maleficent sputtered back, "It only hurts _because _it is sin. The actions themselves don't hurt! Why must all in my life that is even remotely pleasurable or glowing with joy be a sin?" she demanded, a dangerously unhinged edge to her voice.

"That's something I'd like you to pray on, dear," the Monsignor advised. "Along with meditating on your questions, give it up to God while reciting the rosary for peace to fill your heart. Four full rosaries along with the Twenty Mysteries, please. Your penance is to reflect upon the pain you've caused others in your sinful actions. Be at ease, daughter. All is not lost…" he attempted to gentle the seriousness of the situation. "Are you ready to make your Act of Contrition with me? Are you truly sorry?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Maleficent blew out. She murmured her contrition along with the Monsignor. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin."

She bit her tongue then to punish it for lying. It was hard enough to draw blood, and Maleficent relished the salty sting.

* * *

Summarily refusing the sisters' invitation for tea in their commons room, Maleficent escaped through the front doors of the chapel. Scurrying down the stairs, her lungs gulped in the air that smelled like trees and rain rather than incense and wood polish.

Tossing herself into the Jag, her forehead fell upon the steering wheel while her eyes slid closed. She'd been prone to panic attacks in her teenage years, after the horrible event that threw her entire life into chaos occurred. Sweat rolled down her back from between her shoulders, and tears trailed a path down her cheeks as she gasped for air.

_The headmistress marched into the tiny garret that served as her room, as she had no way to pay for her education or boarding until she received her trust fund at eighteen. The fifteen-year-old girl held up her hands in pleading once she saw the instrument of torture that the vile woman held. She hadn't brought a ruler with her, or even the paddle. It was the heavy wooden rod today._

_"You snooty little rich bitch! You think you can kiss upon the innocent lips of the other girls we've been entrusted with? You mean to take their chastity in recompense for your own being stolen, don't you? Don't you, you evil beast?" the woman bellowed, pulling the girl's hair with such a fury that there was a rip as some was torn out._

Her hands shakily put the keys into the ignition, and she wrenched the car from the parking spot to drive onto the main road. Still, the memories continued their assault.

_"No, please! I didn't!" Maleficent squalled, being thrown around like a rag-doll by her hair. Her bearings were hard to get while being tossed like that, and she figured it must have been the Devil woman's purpose in doing it. She couldn't block the oncoming blows that way._

Maleficent's stomach roiled. Her foot slammed down on the gas pedal so hard the tires began to squeal on the pavement of the highway.

_"Liar! Though I suppose it's not surprising for an orphan whelp. Did your heathen of a father never tell you not to lie before the Devil-sent robbers came to slit his throat and your mam's for their sin of having you outside of wedlock?" the Headmistress mocked._

Her hand shifted the car's gears roughly as she turned down the lane to the cottage she called home. She sat a few minutes in the car to collect herself, jaw clenching at her inability to calm down. The world was beginning to blur behind the veil of tears that refused to stop.

_"I'm not lying!" Maleficent cried, desperate to do anything to escape the woman's wrath. It wasn't true, of course. She had indeed kissed Bridget O'Cleary this afternoon behind the big oak tree. The headmistress began her assault wordlessly, striking at her harshly and without really aiming. One particular blow came to her face, and the crunch beneath the rod and bloom of blood in her mouth told Maleficent that her nose had been broken._

Entering the house on unsteady legs, Maleficent's heart jumped at seeing Aurora's wide smile at her. The smile quickly turned into a frown as the sunshine-bright girl reached out towards her from the settee in the library nook.

"Sooooo, how was confession? Maleficent… are you alright? My God, they didn't sack you, did they?" Aurora demanded answers in rapid fire, nervous energy rolling off her in waves.

Unable to abide Aurora seeing her in such a state, Maleficent turned to quickly pound up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. Sliding her back along the door, she crumpled into a heap as her knees came up. Hugging them to her chest, the twenty-nine year old woman sobbed like the lost girl she truly was.

The door wiggled a bit as it bore Aurora's weight on the other side. She must have followed Maleficent upstairs, frantic to know what caused her such pain.

"Maleficent…it's okay if you've been sacked, you know. I wouldn't expect much else from the bastards."

When Maleficent did not respond, the doorknob jiggled as Aurora begged entrance. "Open the door, please? I can't bear being locked away from you," the young woman nearly whined.

The rustling sounds of a moving body against carpet and the unlocking of the door met Maleficent's ears before she realized it was herself moving. Once the door opened, it revealed Aurora's triumphant smile.

Ignoring the girl, Maleficent curled on top of the bed, her back to the door. Undeterred by the action, Aurora climbed in immediately, and hugged her from behind.

Maleficent tried not to think about the shiver that skittered across her skin when fingertips ran tenderly through her hair, or when a kiss was pressed to her shoulder blade.

"It will be all right, Maleficent," Aurora tried to pacify her. "Won't it?"

Tucking a cotton throw over them, the girl snuggled even further into the crook of Maleficent's neck. Closer, and closer she moved – it seemed that they could never be too close, and the idea of the Aurora being anywhere but here was becoming unmentionable. The sun outside continued to set until their breathing evened out, cocooned in each other's safety.

* * *

In a dark, ostentatiously furnished office in London, Stefan Rose steepled his fingers as Phillip Ulstead entered. The boy hurried towards his desk, newspapers and files in hand. Placing them gingerly down, Phillip stood back and waited to be bid to speak.

"What's all this, then?" Stefan rifled through the paper stack. He was bored, and the Ulstead lad jumped to attention whenever he would snap. It was quite amusing to him.

"Uhh, the research you asked for, sir…" Phillip answered quietly. "About Miss Maleficent Moore?"

Irate that he had to dig at the young man to get any straight answers, Stefan brushed the files to the side and glared. "And, what did you find? Speak up, boy!"

Phillip shuffled from foot to foot, but looked up with a grin full of cunning. "Lilith Maleficent LaFey, nickname Mallie, was born October 1st, 1984 to Mr. Lysander LaFey, of indiscriminate Native American and French stock and Ms. Hermia Christopoulos, heiress of the Greek gem-trader Paul Christopoulos and his English wife Evelyn. LaFey was born poor, but was a Rhodes scholar for his intellect. He and Miss Christopoulos met at university, and apparently she fell in love with the man for his activism against the maltreatment of tribal peoples in America and Africa. She hated her parents' business in the trade. As they say, the rest is history. "

He pointed at the sheaves of paper that were now scattered on the desk when Stefan's eyes widened at the insolent party joke. "Y-You'll find a copy of her birth certificate there. When she was fourteen, there was an invasion into their summer home. Robbers, apparently looking for jewels. Angry that they found none, they slit the throats of her parents and had their way with her." Stopping to clear his throat, Phillip waited for Stefan to catch up.

Stefan knew far more than Phillip should realize at this point, so he shrugged his shoulders and motioned for the lad to go on with the sorry tale.

More than a bit nervous at the obvious lack of sympathy, Phillip pulled at his tie before continuing. "Seems whomever had hired the robbers didn't stop there. They murdered Paul and Evelyn the week next, hell bent on whatever they were looking for. Lilith was given over to the Middlesbrough Catholic Diocese Home for Girls in North Yorkshire after she fought her way through several foster homes that the Department of Children, Schools, and Families had placed her in. Quite the wild teen, rumor has it. Anyhow, she went to school at St. Augusta's during the day. Upon receiving her trust fund at eighteen, she attended The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. When she was in America, she must have changed her name to-"

"-Maleficent Moore. Her grandmother's maiden name; how very original," Stefan interrupted. It was clear that Phillip was a mite bit unsettled by his reactions, so he sought to wrap this meeting up neatly.

"Yes, sir. How did you…" Phillip interjected. "How did you know Evelyn's maiden name? I didn't get to that part yet."

Pointing towards the door of the office, Stefan used his harshest voice to reply. It was better the boy had a healthy appreciation for where his anger could lead to, and so today's revelations didn't particularly set him on edge. If the boy was stupid enough to challenge him once two and two had been put together, he would address it then. "That will be all, Mr. Ulstead. You may show yourself out, and close the door on your way."

Doing as he was bid, Phillip quickly exited the office, tail tucked with an appropriate amount of respect. Once the door had shut, Stefan leaned forward to angrily shuffle through the files, pausing on a picture of "Mallie" as a young teen. Those wide, soulful green eyes stared back as if to mock him in their once-innocence; innocence that he'd stolen. She looked so very different as an adult; her nose once pert and perky was now aquiline and strong. Round cheekbones had sharpened into the relief of one who took themselves much too seriously. Her dirty blonde hair had either darkened to brown with age, or was dyed to disguise herself.

He'd ordered the false robbery and actual murder of Maleficent's parents and grandparents when the children of his rivals had begun raising a philanthropic stink about his trading with African diamond mines. They had wanted him to stop trading blood diamonds, and threatened to name his company as one participating in the exchange of the controversial goods. He had spilled their blood in return.

A cruel smile came to his mustachioed lips. For all his digging around fifteen years ago to locate Lilith LaFey, the files over at DCSF had been locked up tight, a veritable dead end. The electronic age made it so very easy to breach protocols now.

"Found you," he whispered mockingly, his fingertips brushing along the photo.


	5. Promissis (Promises)

**A/N: While Aurora's away, Maleficent will play… bridge with nuns. Hilarity will ensue. Enjoy, dear readers! Reads and reviews are always cherished and replied to. XO!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**S&amp;M, Rihanna (Aurora)**

**Adagio for Strings, DJ Tiesto (Club)**

**Titanium, David Guetta (Club)**

**Yes U Can, Jewel (Maleficent in the shower)**

**The One, Shakira (Aurora arrives home) **

* * *

**Chapter 5: Promissis (Promises)**

* * *

Maleficent laid the piping hot baking tray full of butterscotch scones on the kitchen counter to cool. Sr. Eileen and the others would be here in a few hours for their bridge night. Meanwhile, Aurora was upstairs getting ready for a night out in Harrogate with some girls from the school. The stomping of the young woman's feet through the ceiling caused Maleficent to roll her eyes upwards, figuring Aurora must be dancing around like she used to at eighteen.

Removing her oven glove and hanging it back on its small hook under the spices cupboard, she picked up a small, serrated knife to cut the scones. Maleficent paused, hearing the faint sound of Aurora singing along to a song, the words of which she couldn't make out from downstairs. Yes, definitely dancing… and singing.

"…bad but I'm perfectly good…"

Curious now, Maleficent moved out into the hall.

"...Sex in the air I don't care I love the…"

Creeping up the stairs a little, she could hear more clearly.

"…And stones may break my bones, but Mal-efi-cent excites me, na na na come on!"

Awe struck at the sound of these lyrics coming from Aurora's mouth, Maleficent darted to a concealed spot on the landing. Her jaw dropped at the sight that met her eyes.

In the bedroom was Aurora, clad only in a black bra and panties and straightening her long hair. She kept singing loudly and obliviously to "S&amp;M" by Rihanna, which blasted from the iPod hooked up to portable speakers. With the aid of very strong concealer, she had successfully managed to cover the numerous love bites, which had been so visible on her skin previously.

Maleficent watched, entranced. Aurora finished with the hairstyling equipment, and thrust her breasts out in time to the music, sashaying across the large bedroom to reach her dress. She was still unaware she had an audience.

Shimmying into a black thigh length dress, Aurora turned to see Maleficent sneaking to sit down on the bed.

Looking down at the floor, Maleficent sighed and said, "You aren't going out in that dress, Aurora." An ominous laugh escaped her lips.

Aurora opened her mouth to protest, wondering for an awful moment if Maleficent was actually forbidding it.

Maleficent stood up quickly, a dark look crossing her eyes. "Face the wall," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. Totally confused now, a bewildered Aurora obeyed.

Sliding her hands onto Aurora's hips, Maleficent's fingers pressed lightly against the thin layer of flesh there as she rested her chin on the younger woman's shoulder.

"How _much_ do I excite you Aurora?" she asked, her voice husky as she ran her hands up the front of the thin fabric to hover over where pert breasts spilled over the bodice. The proximity allowed her exhalations to waft over Aurora's ear, and she was delighted when her question elicited a shudder.

"Um…" Aurora stuttered, trembling. While a blush crept from her ears to her neck, nipples tightened traitorously inside of her bra, and rubbed against the hands caressing them.

Deciding it would be a shame to ruin the effort Aurora had put into her appearance, Maleficent moved her hands away, tracing fingertips slowly between Aurora's bare shoulder blades, earning another shiver and slight moan in response. "When you get home, I'm going to rip that dress off and take you on the floor, understood?"

Leaning her forehead against the cool wall in a vain attempt to lower her rapidly rising body temperature, Aurora laid a palm flat against the wall and groaned. "I don't want to go out now…" she whined.

At the abrupt loss of the warm body behind her, she spun around and sulked at the sight of Maleficent leaving the bedroom.

"Tease!" Aurora called at her retreating figure, and traipsed to her luggage to replace the damp panties she now found herself in possession of.

"Says the girl wearing the 'fuck me' dress!" came Maleficent's smirking reply as she headed down the stairs.

Once Aurora shoved on a pair of strappy heels, she galloped down the stairs after her. "So what time is the God Squad coming?" she asked, clicking her way into the kitchen a few moments later. Lifting herself backwards up onto the kitchen counter across from Maleficent, she watched as another batch of scones was lifted from the oven. "There's enough to feed an army!"

"Not for another couple of hours," Maleficent informed her while spooning equal amounts of jam and cream for the scones into separate containers. Oddly comforted by the gentle domesticity of the moment, she continued her line of questioning - not to be controlling, but more to reassure herself that Aurora would indeed return. At that thought, her eyebrows scrunched together. "What time do you have to be in Harrogate?"

"Not for at least an hour. I'd best call the cabbie soon, though." Aurora replied. Hopping down, her heels made a loud 'clack!' on the wood floor.

Spooked by the noise, Maleficent swore as the spoon she was using fell from her hand into the jam tureen. A blob of strawberry flavoured jam launched from the counter to splatter all over her white oxford shirt and chest. "That's all I fucking need," she grumbled, turning to go upstairs and change. Finding something restraining her, she looked down to see Aurora's hand on her wrist in a vice like grip.

Leaning forward, the girl smiled before tugging the edge of her shirt down to reveal the area where the jam had fallen. Sliding both her hands up Maleficent's back, Aurora moved forward and began licking the jam from the exposed flesh.

She didn't break eye contact with Maleficent though, and the brashness paired with the ever present blush on the young woman's cheeks was an intoxicating combination to her. Every day since the girl had come to the cottage, she'd opened up a little bit further, and glowed a little bit more. It was enough to make Maleficent wonder if her former student thought she was now the teacher, and the need to show dominance snaked its way into her mind. "Minx!" she admonished with a hiss, her chest and arms erupting into goose flesh.

Grinning like a cat that got the cream, Aurora stood back up. "Pot, kettle, black," she sassed back.

'Oh yes,' Maleficent mused internally, and bit back a frown at the insubordination. It wasn't really fair for her to expect Aurora to keep up the standards of respect shown in the classroom, but truth be told, she enjoyed it when the girl at least _tried._ The frown escaped when she realized that she almost enjoyed the girl's show of defiance more. After all, had she not spent months coaxing Aurora out of her shell of misery and despondency?

That reminder would serve her well in the next weeks, if the events which she suspected would occur did indeed come to pass.

* * *

"Jesus, is this the only nightclub in Yorkshire?" Felicity shouted over the thundering beat of 'Adagio for Strings.' "Half the school is in here!"

"As long as Sister-mental-case doesn't show up and raid the place," Lisa Harper added, twirling the straw in her coke.

"It's not like she could do anything anyway!" Aurora raised her voice over a particularly loud part of the song. "We're less than two weeks away from our final exams. School is technically over."

"Yeah, but we're still boarding there until the last exam," Felicity reminded them. "I don't want to piss those bitches off anymore than I already have, after getting caught at that rave the other night."

Lisa turned her attention to Aurora. "Speaking of which…where did you go the other night when the rave was busted? We saw you legging it off into the woods."

Aurora jumped up as 'Titanium' blasted out from the club's sound system. "I love this song!" she announced, grateful for the distraction. Her classmates watched suspiciously as she hurried down the steps from the alcove where they were sitting.

Lisa's face was particularly pleased at the obvious avoidance tactic. "I heard she spent the night with one of the teachers," she blatantly informed the group of girls as soon as Aurora was out of earshot.

The eyes of several classmates widened and they all gathered closer. "Where'd you hear that?!" Serena Windsor gasped, craning forward.

"I over heard Sr. Amos and Sr. Williams discussing it outside the staff room the other day when I was on my way to the library to study," Lisa shrugged nonchalantly, but grinned.

"Overheard…" Felicity snorted. "As in: stopped to listen."

"Fair enough," Lisa acknowledged. "But, they were talking about a student who was _clearly_ carrying on with her teacher, and how it was a living disgrace!" she crowed.

"Where's your evidence it was Aurora they were talking about?" Serena jabbed, while crossing her arms. Intending to take law at University, she questioned Lisa in a manner worthy of a practiced lawyer.

"Maybe it was about Miss Arandelle," someone else suggested, referring to their beautiful Physical Education teacher.

"Arandelle?" Felicity scoffed, but then looked thoughtful. "I heard she was caught snogging Miss Moore last Christmas in an empty classroom."

"Moore and Arandelle lezzing it up?" Serena screeched, not noticing Aurora's arrival back from the dance floor. The happy smile on her face faded as she caught what Serena had said.

Felicity puffed triumphantly at the view of Aurora's scowl. "Yeeeeees, well. They probably got into a shite-ton of trouble!" she speculated lewdly.

A pang of vicious jealousy stabbed at Aurora's heart at the implication. Sure, Maleficent had a life before her, but Miss Arandelle? Aurora had fancied the arse off the sexy Norwegian platinum blonde the moment she had laid eyes on her in gym class, but that feeling lasted all of two hours before she'd entered Maleficent's classroom for the first time.

Feeling the irrational sting of tears in her eyes, Aurora tried to ignore the wild emotions swirling around inside her. Her mind needing answers, she just wanted to go back to Maleficent's cottage. _Home._

* * *

Maleficent huffed, glaring down at the hand of cards that was surely God's way of mocking her. Hearts, straight across the board. All major cards, it would be tough to make any minor bids without giving herself away. If someone bid another suit, her hand would be void.

The cottage bustled with all manner of women this evening – nuns, other educators, novitiates, and even some Eucharistic minister ladies from the town. One in their group had brought a child no older than eight months old, and the little thing howled for attention every so often. Each time, Maleficent would wince.

Stuck at the card table with Sr. Williams, Sr. Eileen, the woman – '_her name is Joan,' _she reminded herself_ – _and the Antichrist in a frilly pink frock and bib, her patience was wearing thin.

The baby began to squall again, and Joan smiled sweetly at the terrifying little dictator. Standing up, the woman held the infant aloft and made to give it to Maleficent. "Would you hold her a minute, Mal… Malef… Miss Moore? I think she's hungry, and I'll need to go prepare a bottle."

Joan nearly tossed the baby at her, ignoring her horrified expression. Unable to refuse, Maleficent reached up quickly to hold the babe well away from her. Her alarmed gaze was met with a calculating stare, the baby unable to refuse as well. It also appeared unable to decide whether to smile or wail.

_'Not today, tiny Satan. Not today…'_ she growled in her mind, and tried to smile at it. It must have been more of a grimace, because the baby whimpered, but thank heavens did not cry.

Their wide-eyed staring match sent the nuns into gales of laughter. Sr. Williams slapped her knee and chortled. "Don't you look bonny holding a baby, Maleficent? I think the little one's taken quite the shine to you!" she wheezed, falling back into fits of snickering.

Sr. Eileen poured some more tea for the table in the interlude, suddenly serious. "Yes, Mallie. You're nearing thirty soon. When are you going to settle down and have some wee ones of your own, then?"

Just as she was about to answer, Joan returned with the bottle. After hastily handing Lucifer over to her mother, Maleficent frowned. "I beg your pardon?" she raised an eyebrow at Sr. Eileen. "I don't like children, you know that."

"That's not what I hear," Sr. Williams muttered under her breath.

Joan's eyes volleyed between the two nuns and the Latin teacher like she was watching a tennis match, and chuckled nervously. "You know, Miss Moore… My brother is single too." Clearing her throat, she began to bounce her restless child after laying down her card. "He's the youngest of our family, twenty eight years old. He's _very gentle,_ and was going to go to seminary before he decided on studying ornithology…"

Observing this, Maleficent suspected she knew what the group was up to, or at least had an idea of why the poor woman been hustled into playing this round with the "Spinster of North Yorkshire." Frankly, Joan looked petrified of her, but the nuns must have wheedled her into it.

'_Gentle, indeed! He's probably queerer than the Queen's knickers, more like,' _Maleficent thought at the idea of the woman's description of her brother. But then, that was probably the entire point, and that made her even angrier. Wishing for nothing more than an end to the awkward situation, she laid her last card down quickly, obviously the loser.

Turning slowly towards the woman and the nuns, she felt an icy smile spread across her face, and stood up. "No, thank you. I think we need more tea," she responded plainly, and gathered the tea carafe to make for the kitchen once more.

* * *

The alarm she'd set to go off at 1:00 AM to warn her of the nightclub's last call and Aurora's impending arrival blared from the bedroom, and Maleficent groaned. She was stuck in the shower, still rinsing the blasted dark brown dye from her hair. Her dishwater blonde roots had begun to show, and Sr. Eileen had reminded her not so politely on her way out that slovenliness was not the way to attract a gentleman. It was the most obvious code for "do your damned hair," if ever she heard one.

After the guests had left at 11:45, she had made a quick stop at the linen cupboard to fish out the requisite disguise and apply it, and then cleaned the kitchen. At 12:30, the insufferably stinky liquid had finished its job, and she had hopped in the shower.

Maleficent even shaved her legs for the second consecutive time in a week, and the reason why made her smile. There was brown dye water everywhere on the white bath tile, and it made her inner-control freak twitch. Shutting off the faucet, she grabbed the squeegee that hung on the wall and wiped down the shower walls until satisfied.

She managed to exit the bathroom and wrap a towel around herself just as the squealing of brakes and crunch of gravel outside alerted her to the cab's arrival. Scuttling towards the bedroom, she hid the trash bin with the box of dye in the back of her walk-in wardrobe just as the door to the room creaked open to reveal a very irked Aurora.

Grabbing at a shirt to rough it up a bit, Maleficent stepped out of the wardrobe to fold it again in an attempt to look normal. "Rough night in Harrogate?" she inquired crisply.

Aurora huffed and sat on the end of the bed to kick off her strappy heels. "You've _no_ idea," the young woman groaned, flopping back against the mattress. Doing so made her already short dress hike up higher on her thighs, and Maleficent bit her lip at the sight.

"Felicity and Lisa went _on and on_ about how some student is apparently shacking up with her teacher and living in sin. It's all the rage in the hallways at school, apparently." Aurora continued to grouse gloomily. "And then to top it all off, she had the nerve to say that you and Miss Arandelle were snogging last Christmas in a utility room or some nonsense!"

Maleficent's eyes widened as she sat on the bed next to Aurora, tracing a finger down the valley of the girl's breasts that had nestled so nicely while laying down. "It wasn't the utility room. Miss Arandelle accosted me quite drunkenly in a classroom," " she corrected, a wry grin lighting up her face as she remembered. "Too much eggnog."

Blue eyes brightened exponentially at that. "So, it wasn't wanted?"

Pursing her lips, Maleficent lowered her towel and threw it in the clothes basket. Elsa Arandelle was one of her dearest friends, and had been for some time, but she didn't elaborate on that to allay the immature jealousy on display. "No, dear one. Is that what had you in such a dither?"

With a slightly numb expression, Aurora nodded from her place on the bed. Her gaze grew heady as it followed the trails of wetness from Maleficent's hair and onto her naked flesh.

Intent on changing the subject once and for all, Maleficent was glad to see her distracted so easily. "I seem to recall promising you something very specific if you were a good girl, and arrived back promptly from your dancing. Were you good?" she purred, dragging the spaghetti straps of Aurora's dress slowly over pale freckled shoulders.

"Y-Yes. I was good," Aurora panted as she felt her dress being tugged lower and lower still to reveal her lace-clad breasts.

Humming a bit of disbelief, Maleficent continued to tease mercilessly with her fingertips, dragging her nails across the creamy skin until there were trails of pink in their wake. "You didn't deck Felicity McGovern?"

Wiggling the rest of her dress down and kicking it off, Aurora's chin rose as she tried to appear as honest as possible. "No, I told you. I was good."

"Shame… I would have liked to punish you for it, though it's not as if the little twat didn't deserve it." Maleficent chuckled. "Ah, well."

Aurora's eyes sparkled with humour, and she rose up to lean on her elbows against the bed. "Did you just say…"

"Hush," Maleficent ordered, swiftly leaning down to bite and suck a nipple through Aurora's bra. The young woman bucked beneath her, squealing and then moaning long and loud as her fingers grazed up a thigh to massage at hopelessly damp underwear. The fact that they were so wet already was telling, and she paused to pull back and slow down. Unlike the previous time they'd done this, she wanted tonight to last longer. As the methods of delicious torture were removed, it left Aurora groaning in frustration. Maleficent tugged at her hands to topple them both to the floor, and claimed her lips in a heated kiss.

"I promised to take you on the floor. I always keep my promissis," she ground out before moving Aurora's pulse point to suck, bite, and kiss some more.


	6. Vena Amoris (The Vein of Love)

**A/N: Disney owns all, blah blah.**

**I hope that you enjoy this new chapter. Reads and reviews are appreciated and welcomed. XO, Coco **

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**Every Single Night, Fiona Apple (Maleficent's musings during making love) **

**Roads, Portishead (Miss Arandelle and Aurora, Maleficent's cottage)**

**Deus Ex Machina, Nachtmar (Maleficent at bar, Aurora's findings) **

* * *

**Chapter 6: Vena Amoris (The Vein of Love)**

* * *

Rolling over, Aurora straddled Maleficent as they lay on the bedroom carpet. Pleasure had been from dragged from her body moments earlier, but Maleficent continued to touch the girl, her hands and mouth insistent on laying claim to every inch of skin.

"Maleficent," Aurora murmured her name, but not in the throes of passion. She wanted her attention.

Every time they'd come together up until today had seemed rushed, and Maleficent wanted to savor the smaller moments. She didn't want to say it aloud, afraid that Aurora would become frightened that their affair - like all good things in her life - would vanish into thin air. Desperate to make a more solid connection that might give credence to how she truly felt about the woman, she pushed at Aurora again to slow her down.

She didn't give teenage persistence much credit until this very moment, but acceded the fact when Aurora mumbled her name again and tried to wriggle back on top. "Maleficent?"

"Mmmm?" came her muffled reply, mouth locked onto the thrumming pulse of Aurora's neck.

Bravely, Aurora made her request. Her voice trembled a bit, as if overcome with emotion. "I want... to be inside you. I need to feel you," she begged.

Beneath her, Maleficent stilled completely, and imagined being turned to stone. Wrapping her fingers in Aurora's long hair, she turned Aurora's face to her own. Green eyes searched blue intently as she tried to find the trust inside her heart to acquiesce. It was such a simple request – such a normal one between two lovers – and yet blood rushed behind her ears, making her slightly dizzy. If only...

Aurora could never know the extent of her pain, or why she now gulped greedily at the warm air of the bedroom. She refused staunchly to dirty Aurora's soul with such a secret, or to allow it to cloud the brightness she felt when they came together. Hugging her golden haired ingénue closely, Maleficent relished in the comfort when Aurora's arms curled around her back to embrace her tenderly.

"Well, that's different," Aurora giggled lightly. "You're usually so sharp around the edges."

"Am I?" Maleficent questioned tartly, though she knew it to be true. She could so rarely afford to be anything but cautious, sharp, and dignified when interacting on a daily basis – and it spilled over into her manner of making love. She relished in the control, having none over herself for so long. But this was Aurora – sweet, innocent, loving Aurora. If she could have chosen anyone to ask this of her, it would have been this angel.

"You know you are," Aurora teased. Her body seemed to understand Maleficent's hesitation in some sense, relaxing as a gentle kiss was placed to her neck.

Deliberating whether to give up the aspect of power between them, Maleficent mulled it over. Trust was a luxury often unknown to her, and she'd only ever given it up to one before in this way. Of course, trust seemed a luxury to Aurora as well, and she'd shown vast improvements in the matter towards Maleficent recently. That warmed to the concept of sharing herself fully, and Maleficent's chin nudged it's way up and down. "Yes, you may love me," came the permission, her voice surprisingly breathy and light.

Aurora gleamed with happiness and a touch of excitement at the answer. Moving Maleficent back against the edge of the bed, she kissed her mouth ever so slowly and languidly, delighting in drawing out the blissful moment. While slowly trailing her hand down Maleficent's trembling abdomen, something clicked in her expression as she comprehended the need to take her time. Her nails drew lazy patterns across the curve of her ribs and down to the sharp hipbones that jutted out from either side of Maleficent's soft belly. She smiled as she catalogued each of these things, and looked as though she felt joy in the study of opposites, both in mind and body.

Maleficent bit back a moan as the wandering fingers finally reached the drenched, sensitive flesh between shivering thighs, and began to stroke delicately.

"Are... are you okay?" Aurora asked hesitantly.

"Uhhm," Maleficent answered in a groan. Her eyes screwed shut, and she felt somewhere between delirious and conflicted. "Mm-hmm," she finally intoned, biting her lip.

When Aurora slid a finger inside her blazing heat gradually, Maleficent cried out before whimpering. She was always so strong, and to hear such a vulnerable noise from her lips piqued an unbidden flash of anger. "Slowly!" she warned, and gasped a few breaths before apologizing for the outburst by gentling her tone. "Slowly, please."

Her brow furrowing in intense concentration at the request, Aurora didn't flinch or move away. Instead, she dauntlessly paid soft compliment as she went, her whispers full of wonder before she kissed her way up the column of Maleficent's neck. "You feel…. amazing. Like velvet."

Below her touches, the words released a rush of wetness from Maleficent. She groaned as well, her own excitement returning at the sensation of slickness running down her leg.

Sliding off Maleficent's thigh, Aurora climbed between her quaking legs. The fact that they were shaking seemed to confuse Aurora, but Maleficent fantasized that perhaps the girl thought it had just been a long time since anyone had loved her this way. The deceit made her unusually sad, and she pushed it away to think on later.

At a loss for what to do precisely, Aurora let instinct guide her. Laying Maleficent down, she placed her own hips behind the hand currently pleasuring silky depths, and moved her body in a thrusting motion against her.

Her own mind a jumbled mess at this unexpected development in their lovemaking, Maleficent became desperate for something to hold onto. While she reached around to claw at Aurora's round bottom, her thoughts turned to the glaring truth of her unpreparedness to be loved upon - something that perplexed her, since she was usually so cautious in these matters. She'd never anticipated that Aurora might want her this way. The young woman was inexperienced, and still so innocent. Even so, when Aurora's rough and floundering hands had brushed against her damp curls, it felt like the sweetest caress. This too, was perplexing.

Firm breasts capped in sharply aroused nipples pressed against her torso, and she began to move her hips with the motion. Each thrust brought her closer to completely losing it, but for the first time in forever, Maleficent found that she didn't care. Her toes began to curl, the warmth that had pooled in her belly spreading through her veins like wildfire. The motion between them began to take on a feverish pitch, and the sound of skin on skin echoed the room. Her senses were becoming overwhelmed, and in a moment of vulnerability, her moaning veered onto the edge of keening.

That sound had always petrified her. It unnerved her.

"Aurora, oh my Aurora," she cried out, burying her face in the girl's neck. Finding she was unable to say anything more, Maleficent still considered it better than the moaning.

In response, Aurora held Maleficent with tenderness beyond her years. She pressed her thumb in small circles above where her fingers moved, and whispered ever so softly into her ear. "I love you," she declared. It was not a question, nor was it timid and unsure.

As her heart thundered from that realization, Maleficent was struck with the sheer happenstance come to her. The girl was attempting to coax her out of her shell with life's two most universal truths, just as she had done for Aurora. Her mind whispered the words over and over: trust, and love. It was only fair that she should give it in return, as Aurora gave it gladly.

Within the gentle hold of Aurora's arms, Maleficent's climax hit. A single tear rolled down her face, and like the trajectory of their lovemaking, she found herself unable to stop it. The difference with tonight was that she hadn't wanted it to.

* * *

Aurora balanced the science book on the heavy schoolbag on her lap as the small bus she was on drove through yet another village towards St. Augusta's. She'd refused Maleficent's offer of driving her to the school, even though she didn't have tutorials today. Not wanting to waste money on a cab, she'd hoofed it a mile from the cottage in the early morning to wait at the bus stop. The issue with the bus was that it took forever to get where you were going. What would have been a thirty-minute jaunt in the blue Jag was taking two hours with all the stops.

Though lessons had officially finished, the teachers were holding tutorials until the exams. Wanting to do well, she'd planned to avail of them all. She also planned to fit in a few hours of study in her old room while she was there.

Their end of year hockey match against Sanderson College from London was the day after their final exams. She imagined her hockey kit was washed and hanging in the locker room at school, and it elicited a memory. _"My, my," Maleficent said while admiring her thighs after the spanking of a century. "Your love of field hockey certainly has paid off."_

Smiling dreamily, she opened her book to the most recent bookmark and attempted to focus. Scanning further down the chapter on the vascular system, Aurora's eyes fell upon the acronym she'd scribbled on the page to help her remember three abdominal arteries.

C.S.I.:

Celiac artery

Superior mesenteric artery

Inferior mesenteric artery.

As she read, this morning's lovely wake up popped into her mind.

_Maleficent kissed at her fingers, one at a time. Now awake, Aurora's eyes fluttered open and a smile spread across her lips. Grinning back, her mouth-wateringly tousled beloved leaned down to kiss the knuckle of her ring finger._

_"What'd you do that for?" Aurora asked, her stomach suddenly full of butterflies._

_Smirking, Maleficent held the finger up between her grasp. "Vena amoris – the vein of love. Before medicine discovered how the circulatory system functioned, people believed that a vein ran directly from the fourth finger on the left hand to the heart."_

_Aurora snatched her finger back, and giggled. "Is that your way of saying 'I love you, too?'"_

_Still gloriously nude, Maleficent slid out of the bed. As she padded out of the bedroom towards the bathroom, there was a purposeful sashay to her hips. Turning to look over her shoulder, she blew a kiss towards the bed where Aurora still laid._

Coming back to the present, Aurora huffed and shut the book in frustration. Having aspirations to study and possibly work in the medical field after University, she had been taking Miss Arandelle's higher-level anatomy lessons from the first week she'd arrived as a student at St. Augusta's. Her test scores had been excellent all year, and she didn't want to break the momentum. It was hard with the distraction of being in love.

Rain splattered the plexi-glass window of the bus, lulling Aurora's mind into relaxation again. She thought about the other night in the club, and Serena Windsor shrieking about Maleficent and Miss Arandelle. She had wanted to smack the stupid bitch in the face, both her _and_ Felicity McGovern. The other girls knew she'd spent at least one night with one of the teachers, and it was probably around the whole school by now. She would be a complete pariah if they knew she'd been at Maleficent's for close to a week. The next week and a half couldn't go fast enough.

Realizing she was about to miss her stop, Aurora swore internally and hit the bell.

* * *

In the convent, the nuns were having Sunday lunch. It was quickly descending into a ruckus over the rumours flying around the girls' dormitory halls.

"You two know who it is! You have a duty to share it with the other sisters," Sr. Gartrell, the music teacher seethed towards Sr. Eileen and Sr. Williams. Her eyes blazed as she awaited a response from the nuns on the opposite side of the table. Sr. Eileen calmly ignored her to mix some butter into her mashed potatoes, while Sr. Williams scowled back and crossed her arms.

"Don't talk nonsense, Angela," Sr. Eileen finally replied, looking over the rim of her spectacles at her accuser. "Details concerning Miss Rose and the woman she's carrying on with are not for all and sundry."

Stabbing at a piece of steak and kidney pie with her fork, Sr. Gartrell pointed the piece of cutlery at Sr. Eileen. "The novitiates let it slip when I threatened them with the rod that Miss Rose has been staying with Miss Moore for her safety. That, paired with the rumours of a dalliance… you had better hope the newspapers don't hear of this," she warned and began to ramble. "Or you'll be the one who gets it in the neck from the diocese, not me! Everyone knows the Moore woman is-"

Banging the carton of butter down on the table to signal the end of the discussion, Sr. Eileen slid a sideways glare at Sr. Williams.

Though Sr. Williams loathed Miss Moore, she rather liked playing bridge more than her dislike for the woman. She pressed her lips together, and stared back down at her plate.

Across the school grounds in one of the classrooms, Miss Arandelle's cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. Lining the first slide of the tutorial onto the projector, the platinum blonde reached around and retrieved the device, swiping a long finger across the screen.

Reading the text message, she smiled faintly before putting the phone in the coat on the back of her chair.

Felicity and Lisa sat down the back of the classroom, watching the teacher. Between them, they hadn't achieved a score exceeding 40% in anatomy all year.

Felicity was particularly pissed off that she had to take this tutorial rather than see her boyfriend. "I'm not even _going_ to fucking Uni," she growled to Lisa, who wasn't happy to be attending class either. "I shouldn't have to take this poxy class."

"I suggest you take that up with the Principal, Felicity," Miss Arandelle announced with narrowed eyes from the dais. "Until then, you are here so I recommend you focus on the lesson." Turning to the board, she added, "You might actually pick something up."

"Like Aurora," Felicity said under her breath, unable to resist the dig.

The blonde teacher turned around, fixing arctic blue eyes on the schoolgirl. "Excuse me?" Her voice was just as cold as her stare.

Felicity didn't dare repeat it.

The tall Norwegian stared her down. She'd heard exactly what her student had said. Her phone buzzed from the coat pocket once more, and she reached down to read the incoming text.

Watching raptly, Felicity and Lisa saw their ridiculously pale teacher's face grow even paler. Miss Arandelle stuffed the cell phone back into her pocket as she threw the coat quickly around her shoulders. "Fuck, Mallie," she muttered.

Her grin victorious, Felicity waggled her eyebrows at Lisa as their teacher sprinted towards the exit.

"Stay here, all of you!" she yelled anxiously, running down the hallway.

Once Arandelle spotted Sr. Eileen near the girl's dormitory private room hallway, she skidded to a stop. "Eileen! Sr. Eileen, oh God!" she panted, trying to catch her breath. "You have to go finish my tutorial. The medics and police have been called to Mallie's home," she yelped.

"Miss Gibney from the ambulance corps texted me…" she paused strangely to think a moment, and then continued. "Since I'm listed as an emergency contact!"

Sr. Eileen's eyes widened rapidly and she hissed at and hushed the lanky woman, peering behind her down the hallway. Unfortunately, Aurora hadn't gone back into her room from the quick welfare check that the nun had performed on her.

"What do you mean, the medics and police?!" Aurora squeaked, her face horrified.

Miss Arandelle's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she stared down at her. "I don't know, Miss Rose. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary before you left this morning?" she asked, her thinly veiled dig for information making Sr. Eileen spin around to watch for any gawkers.

Aurora sputtered and tugged her sleeves down in nervousness. "No! I've only been here since eleven this morning, studying and taking the tutorials. Are you going to help?" she asked, reaching inside her door for her book bag and stuffing papers inside. It was now nearing 3:00 PM – a lot could have happened in the seven hours since she'd left the cottage at 8:00 AM. It made her sick to her stomach, and she resisted the urge to vomit.

"Aurora, if this is an emergency situation… don't you think you ought to stay here?" Sr. Eileen put her hand on the frenetic young woman's shoulder.

Shrugging the nun's touch away, Aurora turned to stare Miss Arandelle in the eye as seriously as she could muster. "If you don't take me with you, I'll catch a bus. If I can't find a bus, I'll hitch it!"

Rolling her eyes, Miss Arandelle made a grand gesture towards the exit at the end of the hallway. "Well then, Feisty McFeisty, lead the way. I trust you know your way to the employee lot," she ribbed.

Sr. Eileen squawked at that admission of knowledge of the situation and begged them to be quiet on their way out. She shook her head as they ran out the exit, several students and employees calling out in alarm along the way.

* * *

Elsa Arandelle slammed her foot on the gas for the third time since she and Aurora Rose had reached the causeway from town into the country. Every time she'd slow down to the speed limit, the little limpet would turn slowly to glare daggers at her and request through clenched teeth to go faster once more.

For one so petite, Aurora certainly was fierce. No wonder she and Maleficent got along so well. Clearing her throat, Elsa shifted her pickup's gears and looked back at the golden blonde girl who was currently chomping at her fingernails. "So… You and Mallie, huh?" she inquired, trying to distract her.

"What?" Aurora snapped, and then softened her face in apology. "I'm sorry, Miss Arandelle. It's just… she's my friend." Adding hastily a moment later, she continued. "And my stuff is there. You know, girls and their stuff."

If she weren't driving 20 km over the limit in an attempt to get to a possible crime scene, Elsa might have laughed. Instead, she answered the petrified young woman in an even tone. "You don't fool me, Miss Aurora Rose. You're just Mallie's type."

Her shoulders sagging in embarrassment, Aurora sighed. Maleficent had a _type?_

"Fine, then. Believe what you want to. Why were you listed as _Maleficent's_ emergency contact, anyway?" she asked, her voice a touch perturbed at the Elsa's casual usage of a nickname she'd probably never heard before.

"Mmm, jealous are you?" Elsa teased. "Fear not, oh good and gracious Princess Aurora of the Spinster of North Yorkshire's cottage! We've been friends for years, Mallie and I. You know, Miss Gibney… the medic dispatcher? She's been my girlfriend for seven months now. That's how I found out so quickly," she informed the girl proudly.

Aurora gave the teacher a small smile, and then tensed up as she saw three Middlesbrough police cars blocking the end of the driveway to the cottage as Miss Arandelle drove around a curve. An ambulance was parked to the other side, its lights still flashing. As soon as she felt the pickup slow to park, she wrenched open the door and hopped out, not heeding her teacher and the medic's calls for her to stop.

"I live here!" Aurora screamed as a police officer tried to restrain her from going inside.

Elsa watched as a police sergeant told the Constable to lay off her, and Aurora stood up to continue her way inside. She overheard them say that the Criminal Investigation Department was en route to the location.

Making her way in behind Aurora, Elsa did so much more calmly. As she saw Maleficent seated on the couch, holding a pack of ice to her jaw, Aurora stood nearby and gulped in great swaths of air. Stepping cautiously towards Maleficent, she cradled her friend's tear-streaked cheeks between her palms. "Oh, Mallie… What happened?" she whispered.

Maleficent ignored her to remove the ice pack from her jaw and stare in relief at Aurora, who appeared to be vibrating with the need to hug her. Unfortunately, with so many Middlesborough officials around, it really wouldn't be the best idea. While what her and Aurora were doing wasn't technically against the law, it would be certainly frowned upon until the school year truly ended, no matter if classes had been done for some time.

When Maleficent met Elsa's eye and tilted her head towards the officers, Aurora simply crossed her arms and repeated the line of questioning. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Easy, Aurora," Elsa warned the student, her blue eyes widening to look back and forth between Maleficent and Miss Rose.

She had more than an inkling of Maleficent's damage over the years – drawn from the grumpy, insanely private woman's lips through their many years as friends. Even then, it required many, many beers to get those crimson lips to loosen. She doubted she knew the whole truth, but she did know this: Maleficent was not one to be demanded of without repercussion.

* * *

Scowling at the both Aurora and Elsa, Maleficent tried to recall the afternoon in detail. She'd already told four police officers, and was loath to do it again. "Your ex-fiancé broke in the front door with a very ugly buddy of his to harass me while I was making a sandwich in the kitchen," she began.

_Almost floating from the prior evening and the fact that she'd been able to go back to sleep until noon after Aurora left, Maleficent waltzed into the kitchen wearing nothing but her underwear and a white undershirt to make a sandwich. At the front of the house, the front door creaked open slowly, alerting her to someone's entrance._

_"Aurora?" she'd called happily, surprised that she'd made it back so quickly from the campus. The busses could be infernally slow._

_"Nope! Just good ol' me, Miss Moore. Or should I call you Miss LaFey? Perhaps… Perhaps I ought to call you Lilith, since we're on such friendly terms. Stefan sends his regards." Phillip Ulstead spoke, his tone menacing. "Where is my fiancée that you've stolen away?"_

_He walked into the kitchen, his smile cruel. A beefy henchman stood behind him, his hand grasping at something inside a leather jacket._

_ Maleficent's heart raced. How did this little shit know who she was? Was Stefan Rose so bent on getting Aurora to marry this twerp that he sent him with another man to harass her?_

_Her hand slid underneath the countertop to grip the handle of a large pan firmly. Not bothering to warn the intruders, she swung for Phillip first in an attempt to distract the larger man._

_Unfortunately, he'd seen the pan coming, and swung to pop her in the jaw._

_Once her first swing of the pan made contact with Phillip's head, he dropped like a brick. Her jaw throbbed, but she couldn't stop now._

_Yanking the towel from around a nearby hook, Maleficent swung it to whack at the henchman's fat face. It stunned him long enough for her to wind up again, swinging the pan against his bald head with a satisfying clang._

_"_I clocked Mr. Ulstead with the frying pan from underneath the island, and his sidekick got a towel to the face and similar treatment. They're both in the ambulance, I surmise," her voice choked out as she tried to control her trembling body beneath the blankets the medics had wrapped her in.

"After that, I called the police. I made sure they were knocked out with a few more whacks of the pan before I tied them up," she concluded, her eyes calculating as she stared at Aurora.

Aurora popped her hip out and rested her hand on it. "That can't be the whole story. Why would Phillip do such a thing? He's an idiot, not a vigilante."

Maleficent shrugged, wincing when her shoulder made contact with the side of her face that was swelling. Aurora couldn't know the whole truth. She needed to be kept safe.

Seeing the pained expression, Aurora rushed forward. "Oh, my God! He hit you!" she fumed. "He did! Didn't he?"

Edging herself farther down the couch and away from Aurora's touch, Maleficent tried not to look into the young woman's eyes. She knew well that they would be filled with hurt at the action. "Perhaps you should go back to the school with Miss Arandelle, Aurora… If only for a few days. You still have some things there, right? It's not safe here right now," she reasoned.

"What? No!" Aurora shouted stubbornly. "We're in this together. Who cares if I have a change of clothes there? I'm not going."

"Elsa, please…" Maleficent beseeched the help. It was breaking her heart to drive Aurora away like this, and if anyone understood why, it was her friend.

Nodding her agreement, Elsa reached an arm around Aurora, trying to lead her back towards the front door. "Come on, Miss Rose. It's only for a few days… more time to study. You left your laptop and books there in our rush, and the end of the year hockey match is coming up soon."

Furious at Maleficent's attempt to shut her out, Aurora turned out of Elsa's arms. "Both of you are insufferable. I'm not a damn child!" Turning to snatch her purse back up, she stomped towards the front door once more.

She must have known that Maleficent was trying to protect her, but also knew she was being lied to. Her hurt was so deep that she could barely look back, and it drove another stab of pain into Maleficent's heart.

"I'll be back in three days," Aurora tossed over her shoulder, crying as she ran from the room. "You're going to tell me what's going on, Maleficent!"

Hours passed in a daze of pain and more questioning than Maleficent had experienced in years. Much later, after the last constables and medics had left the cottage, she threw on a bra, a pair of black jeans, and her boots. She knew the only thing that could get rid of the ache in both her heart and jaw was alcohol, and wasn't in the mood to argue with herself about it. Not bothering with anything else but her standard red lipstick, she cabbed her way to the next county over in search of privacy and booze.

As the cabbie dropped her in downtown Scarborough, she walked towards the sounds of heavy industrial music, her soul drawn to the sounds of her youth.

Making her way into the heavy metal club, strains of German and Latin pounded from the speakers. The harsh male voice seemed to sing only to her as she slung back shot after shot. 'Deux ex machina; this machine wants your blood. Deux ex machina; with blunt hatred and blind rage..." the track chanted.

She swung her long hair on the dance floor, writhing with the rest of the damned souls who found comfort in the grating noise.

* * *

Across the countryside, Aurora was back in her room at St Augusta's. She'd refused Miss Arandelle's offer of company, and slammed the door in the teacher's face once they had reached her room after an extremely tense and silent drive back.

Yanking open a desk drawer, she found an old cigarette she'd sneaked from Felicity McGovern's room at the beginning of the semester. She lit it with shaky hands, breathing the heady smoke into her lungs. Now, they burned like her heart. She began typing on her laptop to reach a search engine. If Maleficent wouldn't tell her anything, she'd have to do a little bit of sleuthing on her own.

Why in the world would Phillip have attacked Maleficent, and why did Maleficent act like there was something to hide?

Aurora refused to let this go, no matter how much she had been warned against it by Miss Arandelle on the way to the school. It hurt worse than anything to be lied to directly by someone she had trusted so implicitly, and still loved more than the entire world. After typing in the search terms _'Maleficent,'_ _'Moore,'_ and _'North Yorkshire,'_ the results brought up many references to the Latin teacher's many accomplishments in the community and school. However, on page 9 of the search, the results weren't as perfect. One blinked at her, highlighted in glowing blue and bolded.

_'Did you mean: Lilith Maleficent LaFey and Evelyn Moore?'_ the search engine asked.

Intrigued, Aurora clicked on the prompt. Up came article upon article about the tragic tale of a young socialite of fourteen years of age named Lilith Maleficent LaFey. She had suffered many pains, least of which included the murder of both her parents, and her grandparents Evelyn Moore and Paul Christopoulos.

After clicking 'Images' at the top of the screen, Aurora shrieked at what she found and jumped back from the computer screen like it had electrocuted her.

"Fuck!" she swore, tears welling in her eyes. "No! No-no-no!"


	7. Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

**A/N: Hi readers! Eve and I have noticed an increase in readership and reviews, and we wanted to say an extra special thank you for your new (and continued) support of this story. Now, on with the chapter!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Stupid Girls," Pink**

**"Break In," Halestorm**

**"Never is a Promise," Fiona Apple**

**"Break Stuff," Limp Bizkit**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum (If You Want Peace, Prepare for War)**

* * *

Still numb with shock, Aurora clicked away from the images and back to the articles on the laptop. One article from the year of the murders stated some higher level investigative police suspected it had been a professional hit rather than random robberies by someone in the Christopoulos's trade: _the diamond trade._

The events of late lining up in her head, Aurora buried her face in both hands and forced herself to breathe. "It can't be," she repeated to herself over and over again. "It can't fucking be."

Downstairs in the library, the back cubicles were abuzz with girlish chatter from the students let out early of the Anatomy tutorial.

" What the hell was that?"

" Did you see her face?!"

" Who's Mallie?"

Sitting there listening to the babble of noise around her, Felicity McGovern was deep in malicious thought. _'Arandelle has to be the one Aurora had spent the night with. She's the hottest teacher in the school, well... for a lady. Who else could it have been?'_ the teen pondered.

Something was missing. Then, it dawned on her.

"Here, Lisa…" Felicity threw an eraser at her friend's head two cubes away. Beckoning for the red head to come closer, she lowered her voice and grinned. "It's Moore."

Lisa shrugged cynically. "What is?"

Neither girl heard or saw Sr. Eileen standing behind a row of books.

"It's her," the McGovern girl said, her smile vicious. "Miss Arandelle and Miss Moore got it on in that empty classroom last Christmas, right?"

Ignoring the look of terror upon the face of her classmates who had just spotted the nun turning the corner around a stack, Felicity went up a gear.

"I'll bet they've been ripping the knickers off of each other ever since, and I think Aurora's having some sort of three- way with…" Her voice trailed off as a shadow fell over her cube.

A current of sniggering rippled through the girls.

Felicity screamed as she was hauled out of her seat by the ear, courtesy of Sr. Eileen.

Pulling the girl along the length of the library towards the door, the tough nun manhandled the wailing teenager who was frantically trying to get her death grip off of the tender flesh.

"Get on with your revisions," Sr. Eileen called over her shoulder, as though she were lugging a bag of trash out the door instead of a screaming girl. "I'll be asking questions of all of you when I get back."

* * *

In the Middlesbrough police station, Detective Sergeant George Willows entered a tiny, grey interview room with a beige coloured file under his arm. Nodding to the uniformed Police Constable guarding the prisoner, the D.S. took a seat in one of the hard plastic grey chairs. He opened the file, turning the first couple of pages expressionlessly.

Opposite him, Philip Ulstead stared at the wall, arms folded. A barrister from Stefan's expensive legal team sat beside him waiting, pen poised over paper for the Detective Sergeant to speak.

"So, Mr. Ulstead…" Det. Willows began, "Would you like to tell me why you and your accomplice broke into a woman's house and assaulted her?" He closed the file and looked across the formica and aluminium table at the scowling young man.

Philip cast a sideways glance at his barrister, who then leaned across and discreetly issued instructions to his client. Frowning at his defender, Philip shook his head indicating he wasn't willing to do whatever had been suggested. He tried to keep his cool as the brief once again inconspicuously gave direction.

Sitting back in his chair, Det. Willows folded his arms and cleared his throat. "So far," he announced loudly, "We have you on charges of Criminal Trespass and Grievous Bodily Harm. We can add Obstruction of a Criminal Investigation to that as well. It's entirely up to you."

* * *

Over the other side of North Yorkshire, Elsa let herself into her girlfriend's apartment. Having driven Aurora back to the school, she had left her class in the capable hands of Sr. Eileen, and driven the hour home. Ava's shift as a paramedic had ended after tending to Philip and the other injured man, and she should be long home by now.

Fatigue seeped at the teacher's shoulders after the stress of the day, and Elsa rolled her neck to release the tension.

Finding no sign of life downstairs, the lithe blonde stealthily took the stairs two at a time. "Ava?" she called softly, lest her woman be sleeping.

Pushing open the bedroom door, Elsa melted at the sight of her bare skinned girlfriend curled up and fast asleep in the middle of the bed. Her long, dark hair fell in a loose pleat on the pillow beneath her head.

Kicking off her trainers and quickly stripping down to her underwear, Elsa moved across to the bed. Lifting the duvet, she slid in under the warm bedding and inched across the sheets until she was face to face with Ava. Watching the sleeping woman for a moment, Elsa reached across and stroked her hair.

"Hi," Ava mumbled sleepily, her eyes slowly opening.

Elsa smiled. "Hi yourself," she whispered, moving her hand down to stroke the younger woman's face.

"You don't just appear in my bed this early in the evening, Arandelle. What's up?" Ava teased. Elsa rarely did anything without motive. She rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to wake fully.

"Busted," Elsa acknowledged as she leaned into her hand, which was propped up by her elbow. "I just wanted to know what happened at Mallie's cottage yesterday. You know, not the edited version for delicate, teenage ears."

Suspicious sea blue eyes wrinkled in mild irritation. "Some posh twit and his shit for brains friend apparently pushed their way in and attacked her. What else is there to know?" Ava divulged begrudgingly.

"She had an ice pack to her jaw when we got there," Elsa coaxed for more information. "Was it fractured do you think?"

"It could have been," came Ava's honest answer, sighing. "But she wouldn't go to the hospital for an X-ray, so I couldn't tell you for sure."

Utterly confused, Elsa shrugged. "Why?"

Stretching her long legs, the paramedic exhaled lengthily as the conversation was beginning to become uncomfortable. To put it lightly, Ava didn't particularly care for Maleficent Moore. However, she'd never let personal feelings get in the way of her job. Still, Elsa's friend had put her to the test. "She would barely let me examine her," she retorted, trying to end the interrogation there.

"Maybe she was in pain?" the blonde suggested, though she suspected that she knew the real reason.

Ava shook her head. "I know someone who has been smacked around when I see them," she conveyed with a stiffening of her body like a board. "She did this the whole time. Mallie is terrified of being touched, babe."

"Well, her attackers have been arrested." Elsa concluded softly, surprised that Ava had come to the point so succinctly and without much other information. She already knew that Maleficent hated to be touched, but didn't elaborate. Instead, she focused on snuggling closer to her girlfriend, as if to protect her.

The medic nodded and yawned. "I hope they kick the shit out of them in jail. I'm tired of seeing the aftermath of men and their fucking anger issues," she mumbled, half asleep already.

Elsa dropped her hand beneath the duvet and linked her fingers with Ava's warm ones as her girlfriend's eyes fell closed into slumber once more. She loved this woman so much. It was easy to see why Mallie would take on an armed idiot and his sidekick with a damned frying pan to protect Aurora Rose.

After resting with Ava a while, Elsa kissed her on the lips softly and crooned, "I'll be back later." Getting up as soundlessly as possible, she got dressed and headed back into the night.

* * *

Detective Willows returned to the Middlesbrough police station interview room after a brief break, leading a colleague in behind him. He switched on the recording equipment and checked his watch as a tall woman with long red hair took a seat beside him. "Interview resumed at 17.50 hours. Officers present, myself Detective George Willows and D.C. Juliet Becker," he intoned measuredly towards the microphone.

After placing a white polystyrene cup of steaming coffee in front of Phillip, he noticed the suspect eying the cup with a smug superiority. "Something the matter, Mr. Ulstead?" Det. Willows asked.

Phillip snorted rudely. "You think I'm going to drink that so you can get my DNA off the cup? Nah, man." He sat back, leaning against his handcuffed hands looking pleased with himself.

D.C. Becker leaned forward and steepled her fingers. "Mr. Ulstead, we have your fingerprints on the front door of Miss Moore's residence already," she said in a voice that suggested she was talking to a brain damaged amoeba.

"And your DNA from your blood," Det. Willows informed him. "Taken from one very sorry looking, dented frying pan. She belted you good," he chuckled underneath his breath.

Blushing furiously, Philip glared at the female constable. "Fuck you," he snarled.

Smiling, she shook her head and looked him right in the eye. "You're the one who's fucked, Phillip."

Phillip's eyes swivelled across to Det. Willows, whose blasé facial expression only seemed to confirm his associate's statement.

His barrister offered no advice, even as the man's expression became more desperate by the second.

Wiping his clammy palms against his jeans, Phillip Ulstead finally began to comprehend the depths of trouble he'd fallen into. Stefan had said the woman would be a pushover, if she were anything like the night she'd been attacked _before_. He'd been too excited to wave around his new pistol at the bitch to really think his employer's statement over.

Now that it ran through his head like a record skipping, Phillip's gut filled with dread.

* * *

Elsa idled her pickup to park in front of the green painted wooden door. Pursing her lips in thought while exiting the cab, she stared at the cottage exterior that she'd rarely paid attention to before. She knew her friend well, but had always considered the home to be just that - a home. Now, she took another look.

All sorts of wildflowers grew in huge patches under the windows and across the lawn, and the shutters were stupidly adorable with hearts cut out of the panels. Mallie's home looked something out of a fucking fairy tale, except Elsa knew better. Inside weren't seven idiot dwarves singing hi-ho. No, this was a dragon's lair dressed up prettily to avoid the suspicions of any neighbours or colleagues, and possibly to lure unsuspecting maidens in to eat for dinner. At that thought, she snorted.

A woman's voice on the radio blared out of the open windows, warbling a cover of a creepy 90's song. Elsa knocked on the door, and was startled when it creaked open slowly. It had been completely unlocked and unlatched.

_'Yeah, that's Mallie. Almost get knocked off the day before? Fuck you, I'm airing out the house,'_ she thought while shaking her head.

Stepping into the entryway with her hands up in defense, Elsa called out warily. "Mallie? Hey, Mal?"

There wasn't any response, so she walked slowly into the kitchen where the speakers were blasting music from the woman's iPhone. Scanning the playlist, Elsa stuck out her tongue and grimaced slightly. It was full of wah-wah love songs, heavy rock, and industrial. It was recipe for Mallie to make herself feel like an utter piece of shite, she knew.

Scrolling down, she finally changed the headache inducing song to something remotely tolerable. Still, as Fiona Apple began to play, Elsa winced. "Faen," [1] she cursed, trying to switch it again before she felt depressed enough to cry herself.

"Leave it!" Maleficent yelled from the living room, and Elsa took her hands away from the iPhone, her cheeks burning in guilt.

As the lanky blonde walked into the living room, she swallowed the urge to gasp. A few beer bottles littered the coffee table, and the once pristine table runner was covered in the ashes of cigarettes that had escaped the piled-up ashtray.

Maleficent laid supine on the couch, clutching a bottle of liquor in one hand and puffing away at yet another cigarette with the other. Her battered cheek had bruised to purple and yellow overnight, and the once Burberry-wearing, Pottery Barn-shopping woman was clad in ripped black jeans and an a-shirt that had twisted in her sleep.

"Holy shit," Elsa stammered. "What're you doing to yourself?" She gulped deeply as she noticed her friend was also braless, and one breast was precariously close from saying an accidental hello.

Rolling her eyes and laying her head back on a pile of throw pillows, Maleficent twiddled the cigarette between her lips and took another drag before exhaling the smoke in Elsa's direction. She did it on purpose to raise the woman's ire, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh this? You know me better than to ask. This is me not giving a fuck," she slurred and snickered.

Nodding while stepping out of the pathway of the smoke, Elsa tugged at the bottle in Maleficent's grip. "I can plainly see that. Give me this," she huffed impatiently as the brunette made a playful pout and tugged back.

Still, Elsa wasn't going to give up this tug of war. She pulled at the bottle and glared at the self-destructive woman. Having seen this kind of behavior before many years ago, she wasn't about to let a repeat performance happen.

"Stop!" Maleficent's voice was irritated when she realized her friend truly meant to abscond with her liquid courage. "I need this," she pleaded, her mood swinging rapidly as she blinked back tears.

"For what, shutting down your damned liver?" Elsa remarked as she whisked it away towards the kitchen, along with the empty beer bottles. "Get your filthy arse in the shower, Mallie. You stink like a nightclub, and you'll feel better for it. You have to be in fighting condition now."

Wobbling as she stood, Maleficent scowled. "Si vis pacem, para bellum," she spat angrily.

Popping back into the room, Elsa crossed her arms and scowled back. "Word vomit what?"

"Nothing," Maleficent seethed, running her hands through knotty, sweaty hair. She stomped past Elsa and up the stairs, not pausing even when she stumbled, her ankles loose and wobbly from being drunk. She merely pushed off the wall and continued on her way towards the shower without looking back.

Staring after her, Elsa ran a hand down her face in equal amounts of relief and frustration. Mallie liked control, that much was certain. She had none right now, so she was taking control back by giving the world a giant middle finger. The problem with that kind of thinking were the dangers that came along with it. One could find themselves in real hot water if you let your guard down too much while instructing those who would take you down to take a long walk off of a short pier.

The woman upstairs was a ticking time bomb, and Elsa needed Maleficent's bomb squad. "I'll be back in a few, Mallie!" she yelled up the stairs towards the direction of the shower running.

She needed Aurora Rose, and fast.

* * *

After a fitful attempt to nap through the mid-day, Aurora reluctantly opened her laptop at the sound of an incoming Facebook notification. Still feeling badly shaken from her research last night and into the wee hours of the morning, the young woman's eyes flickered across the page to the group notice: **"****END OF YEAR HOCKEY MATCH BROUGHT FORWARD"**

Reading down the page, Aurora learned the match was being brought forward and would now be played tomorrow instead of the day after final exams in a week and a half. This was due to Coach Arandelle returning to Norway for a wedding, which clashed with the original date of the match.

The comments of her classmates rapidly begin to appear underneath the post, and Aurora followed them for about ten minutes before freezing in astonishment at what she was reading.

**Felicity McGovern**: _18:12 on iPhone_

_Woo hoo… and I didn't even see Aurora wearing a ring_

**Lisa Harper:** _18:14 on Xperia J_

_Do you think the nuns are invited? LOL!_

**Felicity McGovern: **_18:17 on iPhone_

_Can you imagine Arandelle on the wedding night? "Harder girl harder! Really Aurora, this isn't good enough." ROFLMFAO!_

**Lisa Harper: **_18:19 on Xperia J_

_I'm giving you an F!_

_LMAO!_

**Felicity McGovern:** _18:21 on iPhone_

_F is for… FINGERS ;)_

_"Now Aurora, which part of your anatomy can I touch without getting arrested?"_

**Serena Windsor:** _18:22 on iPhone_

_Oh my God you two, I think I've just pissed myself. Can you see Moore now? "That's my piece of ass, Arandelle!" LOL, catfight! Rawr!_

* * *

Just inside the woods, Felicity was hunched over her phone, laughing and tapping out a reply when she was grabbed from behind by the hair and dragged backwards with vicious force.

"You fucking bitch!" Aurora shrieked, kicking at her.

Elsa Arandelle had been walking into the side doors to the main hall when she heard the tell-tale, high pitched screams of teenage girls fighting. Looking at her watch, the teacher noticed it was almost 6:30pm. The girls should be at dinner.

Stepping back out the doors, she tilted her head, trying to hear where the disturbance was coming from. Walking slowly back down the stairs, she heard it again.

"..aaaarghhh!…"

"fucking… kill you!"

Realising what was taking place, Elsa broke into a run and covered the parking lot in less than two minutes. She rushed down the outside stairs, and across the grassy knoll towards the treeline, still hearing the fight well before she saw it. A large group of girls had gathered like vultures to surround the fight, jeering and cheering for the fight to escalate as the sounds of slaps and punches echoed the air.

"Let me go!" _Slap!_

"Not until you take it back!" _Pow!_

Elsa finally pushed through the feverishly chanting crowd in time to see Aurora punch Felicity in the face, sending her crashing backwards and into a bush. Girls scattered from the brawl's trajectory only to congregate once more to the side. They were acting like pack animals.

"You fucking dyke!" Felicity panted through the hand she held over her bleeding mouth. "I'm going to get you and Arandelle fucked out of here, and that creepy bitch Moore, too!"

Aurora launched herself at the injured girl, only to be restrained by Elsa's quick grab to her arm. The petite eighteen year old vibrated with the need to finish what she'd started, and the teacher wished she could hug her or shake her – perhaps both. However, after some of what she'd just heard, that wasn't a brilliant idea.

"What the _Hell_ is going on here, girls?" Elsa demanded, shouting over the din. "And why, Felicity McGovern, has my name come into this?" she challenged, still struggling to keep Aurora subdued.

Now more than convinced that Mallie could spot a wildcat in kitten's clothing a mile away, she turned her attention to the girl who was still twisting in her grip. "Aurora_, please_. Calm down."

Already deciding she was probably going to be expelled anyway, Felicity shook with anger and pointed accusingly at the Norwegian instructor. "Everybody knows that Aurora slept with one of the teachers the night of the rave," she spat.

Elsa shrugged serenely. "And?"

"It was _you,_" Felicity shouted. "We _all_ know it was you!"

Her grip tightened on Aurora's arm to keep from releasing the young woman back onto the McGovern girl with full blessing, and Elsa responded scathingly and slowly. "You stupid girl. Just like in class all semester, you've not bothered to check your facts. Instead, you just shoot your mouth off."

Despite the pain in her face from Aurora's beating, Felicity's mouth fell open in surprise at their usually reserved teacher's intense gaze.

"You," Elsa declared as she advanced on the wretched girl, "You are a perfect argument for natural selection. In fact, I don't know how you've survived to adult hood."

Felicity grimaced as her teacher openly insulted her. "You… you can't say that to me!" the schoolgirl sputtered.

"You might want to take a look at her phone, Miss Arandelle," Aurora advised, a triumphant grin spreading across her lips.

Trailing Aurora behind her, Elsa walked towards Felicity's purse to fish the cell phone out, and swiped her finger to unlock it easily. The nitwit girl hadn't even bothered to create a lock screen password.

Aurora watched as the educator's face went from angered to raging in about four seconds. Without another word, the towering woman strode over to Felicity and slapped her across the face so hard the sound echoed through the trees.

"M-My Father is a L-Lawyer!" Felicity blubbered as she scrambled away from Miss Arandelle's hand. "I'm going to press charges for assault!"

"And I am going to go retrieve a nun, Miss McGovern," Elsa retorted in a deadly tone of voice. "I'll recommend an appropriate punishment for your transgressions," she promised, a cool grin sliding across her face.

At that announcement, the group of girls that had gathered to watch the fight scattered like frightened sparrows. Felicity ran with them, but that was fine - Elsa could bide her time with notifying a nun.

"You are in so much trouble, Aurora." Elsa fixed a stern glare on Aurora, and pointed towards her pickup. "You, parking lot, now. I know you promised her to stay here for a few days, but that's_ obviously _a bad idea. Don't think I'm not going to tell Maleficent why you've both got matching shiners."

* * *

1 Faen - (Norwegian) Fuck.


	8. Amare (Love)

**A/N: Good morning, readers! Thank you so much for your kind and constructive reviews last chapter. We hope you enjoy this particular chapter, as much as we enjoyed developing some of our recurring characters and storyline! **

**Chapter Soundtrack: **

**"I'll Stand By You," the Pretenders**

**"Don't Leave Home," Dido**

**"F**kin' Perfect," Pink**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Amare (Love)  
**

* * *

Miss Arandelle's pickup rumbled out of the gravel driveway just as quickly as it had entered, and Aurora looked up towards the cottage door with intense determination. During the ride here from the school, all she had heard from her Physical Education and Sciences teacher was how bent out of shape Maleficent was over the home invasion. She'd also been lambasted heavily for fighting with Felicity McGovern the day before their field hockey match – Aurora and Felicity were the team's best players, and Miss Arandelle wasn't entirely sure if their teammates could even play the rival team without them.

If she was being perfectly honest with the instructor, field hockey was the last thing on Aurora's mind. Ever since her Internet search had revealed so many secrets regarding her lover, the mess of it had haunted her. Of course, she didn't share this with Miss Arandelle. Aurora was afraid to know some of the answers herself. However, she refused to be childish about it.

There simply had to be a logical explanation for the subterfuge, she told herself. It was hard to convince her heart of that.

At first, Aurora had felt shock. Over the course of the night, shock had turned into insecurity, and then to something akin betrayal.

She'd thought long and hard about how to broach the subject with Maleficent when she saw her again, but Aurora hadn't expected it to be so very soon. It had been just over twenty-four hours since the stubborn and proud woman had summarily exiled Aurora to her old room at the school, and yet here she was. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she turned the front doorknob and slid quietly into the entryway.

Careful to move with intention without being too noisy, Aurora walked the downstairs of the cottage – Maleficent was not in the kitchen, nor was she in the library nook or dining room. Padding her way into the living room, Aurora's eyes pricked with tears at the sight.

It looked as if Maleficent had tried to clean up some of the mess Miss Arandelle had described, but had given up. It was dark in the fading light of a June sunset, but Aurora didn't turn on the light. A halfway full trash bag lay on the floor beside the couch. On top of the sofa lay the woman who had stolen her heart; her arm thrown over her eyes in a way that made the twenty-nine year old seem so very young, and pure.

She'd only learned Maleficent was twenty-nine last night – born on October 1st, 1984. The mortal tragedies of the woman's secret life had occurred only a few days after a huge party for the socialite's fourteenth birthday, and a news firm had thought it appropriate to dig at readers' human interest and empathy by including that tidbit of information. Aurora had always assumed that Maleficent was around twenty-eight, or even leaning towards thirty.

Her instincts had been mostly correct, and a curious search to an Astrology website described people born on that date as 'charming, and personally powerful individuals, best when they are in control. They are proud, and not always willing to ask for help.' It had been very insightful, but altogether unsurprising.

Maleficent's plump lips still bore the hint of lipstick, and were bowed into a frown. Her dark hair cascaded in waves over the throw pillows. Maleficent must have fallen asleep with her hair wet, something Aurora knew she didn't like. She'd learned that from questioning Maleficent's practice of blow-drying her hair straight out of the shower only a few nights ago.

It occurred to Aurora then that while she didn't know much of the large parts of the woman's life – the parts that lovers would typically know far before hopping in bed with one another – she knew many silly little details that may seem inconsequential to others. Maleficent took her tea black with two sugars, no lemon. The woman preferred it steeped ultra-hot, and the memory of the aromatic Lady Grey tea wafting around the Latin classroom each morning assaulted her.

Her love didn't like scones, though she baked dozens of them for her colleagues and the Sisters. While she preferred to wear soft, cushy fabrics in light colors such as oatmeal and mint underneath her stuffy black suits, her lingerie drawer was full with black lace, silk, and the softest brushed cotton. Even the stay-up stockings and wool socks were black. Maleficent didn't like to eat meat – after having so many tutoring sessions during dinner time at the school, Aurora had noticed the lack of it in the woman's Tupperware. She did like eggs though, especially soft boiled over a salad.

The thought of food made her stomach growl in hunger, and brought Aurora back to the present. Maleficent still hadn't noticed her standing there, and had twisted on the couch. The crocheted cable stitch throw had tangled around her form, and her hair had fallen away from the gigantic bruise that blazoned across a cheekbone.

A breath caught in Aurora's throat, and she sniffed back the need to cry. All of a sudden, the drama swirling around them didn't matter so much. She wanted to take her upstairs and cuddle under the fluffy down duvet, as they did before. She wanted to buss that aquiline nose with hers, and nudge Maleficent into a kiss. She wanted to wrap her arms around her naked, trembling body and soothe every ache and hurt away. _She wanted._

Shuffling over to Maleficent's side, she crooned gently to the slumbering woman and knelt down. "Hey? Mal…" Aurora's tongue stuck on the name like it was an untruth, and she didn't finish it. "I'm back."

Long, dark lashes fluttered open to reveal bloodshot eyes that were clearly startled. Maleficent began to breathe briskly while clutching at her chest. "Aurora," she rasped, clearing her throat a few times in an attempt to return to calm. "What… What time is it?"

"It's just after 8:30 in the evening," Aurora said soothingly as she pointed to the clock atop the fireplace mantle. Not wanting to push too far, or too fast, her mind raced to remember what she'd come here to say, and how she'd planned it. But, first thing was first. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Inhaling deeply through her nose and stretching, Maleficent then propped herself up to sit. "No, but I'm not very…"

Aurora held up her palm and interrupted with a firm tone. "I'll make you some eggs. I promise, I'm not completely hopeless in the kitchen."

Her face becoming slightly agitated at being interrupted, Maleficent waved in the direction of the kitchen. "You don't have to…"

"Shhhhhh," Aurora hushed. "Eat first, talk later," she said with a pained smile, and rose to walk away. Maleficent probably had no idea what the topic of conversation was going to be, and Aurora felt a little bit like a butcher luring a lamb to slaughter.

Walking the hallway to enter the next room over, Aurora then made quick work of collecting what she needed – butter from the crock on the counter, a pan from beneath the island, and eggs from the refrigerator. Setting the pan on the stove, she turned the gas on and deposited a pad of butter to melt before turning back for the eggs that she'd placed on the island's butcher block.

Maleficent had snuck in and seated herself on a breakfast stool, her face a touch wary, and wholly despondent. The woman's green eyes widened in surprise as Aurora met the sad gaze with one of her own.

She reached a hand across the wood countertop to lace her fingers through the willowy thin ones that had been tapping at it lightly. "_I promise_," Aurora spoke clearly, wanting to be understood. "I promise I will not disappear, or run out of here screaming. I keep my promises too."

As she turned back towards the stove and cracked four eggs into the pan, a voice so light it could have been a breeze asked, "Why?"

Aurora shrugged as if the answer was obvious, but didn't turn around. "Because I love you, no matter what. I think I'm falling _in_ love with you, and it's crazy... but I don't care."

There was no response, and it was just as well. The eggs needed to be flipped, and what needed to be said required her full attention. It could wait until they ate. Focusing on the food, she slid the eggs around the pan to ensure they didn't stick, and separated them into two servings with a spatula before plating them.

Sitting on the stool next to Maleficent, Aurora pushed a plate towards her. "Eat. Please?"

Nodding wordlessly, Maleficent began to scrape her fork at the food, but did not eat. After a few moments of awkward silence, her hand threw the piece of cutlery down. It clattered off the counter and to the floor. "Talk to me," she ground out, turning an anxious stare towards Aurora.

After taking a few rapid breaths, her eyes closed and a shiver ran down her body. "I'm… I'm so sorry. Please. Please, talk to me. You must know that I didn't send you away because my feelings have changed. I didn't want you to see…"

Aurora raised her index finger to press against Maleficent's lips. When she gasped against the finger in astonishment and quieted, the younger woman moved her hand to cup at Maleficent's injured cheek tenderly. "I know. I know that you didn't want me to see you that way. I know why you're that way, Lilith," she whispered, her tongue delicately pronouncing the new name on her lips.

Maleficent bristled on her stool, and slid off to back away from Aurora's caress like she'd been burned. "Don't," she commanded, her eyes flashing like lightning during a storm. Her back pressed to the wall, unable to go any further without barging through Aurora's path.

"I searched your name, and the things I did know about you. It wasn't hard for the Internet to whittle it down to some old news articles," Aurora reasoned, ignoring the request to stay the conversation. She refused to be defeated by her love's shying away, and slid off her own stool to walk the short distance to the frightened and angry woman.

Ducking her head in a show of submission, Aurora peeked up through her eyelashes and opened her arms. At no show of physical resistance, she folded herself into Maleficent's space and held her close. She felt the body beneath her embrace stiffen, and waited.

Slowly, the muscle and sinew began to relax from stone to the point of quivering. At that point, Aurora snuggled her head to lie on the lushly soft breasts that peeked above the undershirt that covered them as she spoke. "When I first found out, I wondered if what we had was a lie, just like your name. I saw pictures of you from the articles, and then I remembered smelling hair dye in the house even though I couldn't find any." Chuckling, she shook her head minutely. "You think you're so sneaky, but you forget that I am eighteen. I am sneaky, too."

Pulling away from the one sided hug, Aurora's hands slid down Maleficent's arms and intertwined their fingers. "For all of an hour, I thought maybe I was part of your ruse, you know? But then I really thought… there's no way. You can't just fake love like that. You couldn't have pretended to care for me all those months, with your long stares and hovering hands. You wanted to protect me from the evil in this world because nobody was there to protect you."

Tears swam in Aurora's eyes as she finally looked up towards Maleficent, who was crying as well.

"I did, and all I've done is make the world more dangerous for you. Perhaps it would be best if we didn't carry on." Maleficent murmured, her voice broken hearted and expression tortured.

Dropping her hold on Maleficent's hands to clench her fists, Aurora began to get angry. "You don't get to do that! I don't give a shit what your name is or where you're from," she decreed, her chest heaving with breathy sobs. "You're my safety, and now you're my home. _I love you_, damn it! Just fucking say it… I see it in your eyes every time you look at me. Say it!"

A memory of their first night together flashed in Maleficent's mind. _"Say it with me…" _she'd instructed the young woman, after she'd claimed her dewy soft lips, ripe for the taking. Now, Aurora asked the same of her.

Maleficent's chest burned with the need to exclaim her adoration for the fiery little woman. Aurora knew how to push her buttons, how to turn her inside out with just a touch or a word. They'd danced around each other for close to a year, with she the satellite orbiting the supernova star in absolute devotion. In the end, Maleficent knew how that ended: the star burst, and swallowed the planets whole. It was an apt description for how she felt at this moment.

Pushing from the wall, her hands came up to dig into the blessedly soft curls of her **_amare_**_, _her everything. Aurora's blue eyes blazed like the edge of a white-hot flame, and a wanton noise escaped her throat as she was tugged forward.

Under Maleficent's fingers, the blonde nodded once in consent and closed her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed at the corners of the waiting mouth, up a cheek and over to a delicate ear. "My name is Maleficent Moore, and it is I who loves you, Aurora Rose," she confessed, her voice deep with emotion.

Shaking her head, Aurora opened her eyes to glare stubbornly.

Before she could utter a protest, Maleficent pressed her lips firmly to Aurora's, flicking her tongue around the edge of the kiss to request compliance.

Aurora moaned despite herself. She'd kissed this woman many times in the past weeks, and imagined kissing her for so much longer than that. Nothing had prepared her for the feeling of being totally consumed by a kiss such as this. Aurora drowned in it gladly; pushing every emotion she had for her into the ebb and flow between them.

Pulling back for air, Maleficent cradled her love's cheeks between her palms. "That girl you think I am is long dead, and I merely existed. But now, I am finally alive with you," she panted, hoping beyond all reason that Aurora would understand.

Realization dawning at the admission, Aurora was overcome with the sudden need to expose every part of the glorious creature that held her, not just her past. She began to yank at the hem of her lover's undershirt, and her nails grazed the ticklish skin over sharp hipbones, eliciting a shiver of delight.

Maleficent reached down to grasp her shirt's hem, and pulled it up and off in one fluid motion before her lips found Aurora's once more. She felt her breasts being kneaded by petite hands, and groaned when nimble fingers pinched at her sensitive nipples. While wrapping one of her arms around Aurora's waist, she spun to drag her forearm along the kitchen island. Plates, mail, and lesson plans crashed to the floor, and she grasped the girl's slender hips and lifted her onto the countertop.

From her perch, Aurora felt her shirt being tugged upwards, and wriggled to free herself from the garment. Everything was moving so fast that her overloaded senses could barely keep up; a flicker of green eyes followed by swollen lips came before she was pushed down and onto her back. Strong hands jerked her bra cups down and underneath her pert breasts before pulling teasingly at her nipples until they stiffened to attention. As she laid her head back against the hard wood of the kitchen's tableau, her plaid wool skirt slid up her thighs.

Moaning in anticipation, she was still surprised at the force with which her cotton bikini underwear was tugged down her legs. The motion sent a jolt of warmth upwards to pulse deeply inside her, even as the cottage's cool air hit the overheated flesh now revealed.

Fully expecting the touch of fingers, she squealed when a hot and velvety tongue lapped at her, delving between folds expertly before pressing tenaciously onto her clit. Aurora's hands shot out to pull at silken hair for dear life as she moaned and writhed in pleasure.

"Oh… Oh, yes!" she yelled as teeth grazed where the tongue had previously been, followed rapidly by the tongue again. Her hips bucked, and one of those strong hands wandered up to push down at her stomach to keep her still. Nearly breathless from her shouting, Aurora wondered aloud. "What… What are you doing?"

Licking and nibbling her way to a silken inner thigh, Maleficent answered simply. "I'm worshipping you."

She kept on venerating the temple of Aurora's body until she had dragged her name from the girl's screaming mouth three times.

Her real name.

_"Maleficent!"_

* * *

A long, sleek coach bus with dark tinted windows pulled up on the far side of the vast athletic field. A few moments later, the large automatic door hissed open and folded back. The Sanderson College hockey team Captain Caitlin Montgomery descended down the steps of the vehicle, carrying her field hockey stick and helmet.

A tall and graceful creature, the school prefect wore her peroxide blonde hair in a tight ponytail. Following behind was the rest of the visiting team, dressed in white hockey shorts and shirts bearing their school colours of green and yellow.

Inside the school, a tense atmosphere hung over the locker room as each St. Augusta's girl sat on the cold hard bench, cradling her hockey stick.

The team's Offensive Forward Kelly Garnett strained to see out of the nearest window, which was covered in at least ten years of grime. "They're here," she announced over her shoulder to the others.

Felicity was sporting a split lip from Aurora's fist, and grunted. She was channelling the rage and injustice of the day before as fuel for the game.

Aurora had been ordered to get ready for the match in her room by Coach Arandelle that morning, and the McGovern girl cursed under her breath at the lost opportunity to corner the bitch who had slocked her.

Elsa knew something serious was brewing between the girls, and that Felicity was not going to take the beating she had received without some form of retaliation. She had worked in the school system long enough to know when a girl was waiting for the opportunity to strike back.

Felicity and some of the other boarders were leaving St. Augusta's the day after, only returning for the exams the week after. Elsa strongly feared that if the humiliated girl were going to take revenge upon Aurora, it would be today, and in front of everyone.

Upstairs, Aurora smoothed her short hockey skirt down in nervousness. Picking up her game stick and pink and white eye guard in one hand, she opened the door with the other and came face to chest with Maleficent.

Stumbling backwards, Aurora managed to raise her eyes to her lover's face, which was smirking down at her. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying to hide her blush as she peeked around the door to ensure there was nobody around.

Maleficent rolled her eyes and stepped in to the room. "I came to wish you good luck, although I fear I've done more harm than good," she chuckled ruefully.

Aurora gave her a hopeful smile. "Can I have a good luck kiss then?"

_'Oh, Aurora…' _Maleficent contemplated. Provocative as hell one minute and innocence personified the next; the coy behaviour of the young woman was one of things she loved most. Closing the gap between them, she wrapped an arm around Aurora and tilted her chin upwards with her other hand. Looking down, she kissed her on the forehead.

"Lower," Aurora pouted and complained.

Maleficent smiled and kissed her on the nose. "Here?" she asked teasingly.

Losing her patience, Aurora pushed Maleficent into a sitting position on the bed behind her and climbed onto her lap. Seeing her lover's pupils dilate in surprise and lust, she began to kiss her passionately. She felt horribly naughty for doing this inside the dormitory, and the emotion only served to stoke the fire that seemed to burn constantly for the woman.

"Aurora, the door!" Maleficent mumbled her warning behind the lips that crushed against hers again and again.

"The school... is empty…" Aurora reassured her in between kisses.

* * *

Halfway up the staircase to the top floor of the dormitory to retrieve Aurora for the match, Elsa Arandelle's phone rang. Glancing at the screen, she smiled upon seeing her girlfriend's name. "Hello, min vakker en,"[1] she answered lovingly.

They were scheduled to leave for a wedding in Oslo later that afternoon and Ava had decided to spend the morning with Elsa before their flight from Teeside Airport at 2:00PM. She was calling to say she'd arrived. Elsa finished the call, and continued up to the top floor of the school where the senior girls slept.

Arriving at her destination, Elsa strode briskly towards Aurora's room. The hockey match wasn't due to begin for another half hour and the referee had yet to arrive. However, she'd planned to escort the teenager across the school to the match beforehand, lest Felicity's gang be lying in wait somewhere to kick the shite out of her.

Two doors from Aurora's bedroom, her sharp ears pricked up at hearing an odd noise. Remaining where she stood for a moment, Elsa heard it again. _'Jesus, is that moaning?' _she wondered.

Creeping stealthily towards the bedroom to keep out of sight, the teacher stayed against the wall. Her mouth slid open in amazement as she realized the racket that came again from behind the door was _definitely_ moaning.

Noticing the door was slightly ajar, Elsa chanced a peek inside the narrow space.

Mallie was sitting on the bed with Aurora in her lap, the young woman's panties discarded on the floor. As Elsa watched, she saw the Latin teacher's hand disappear up Aurora's skirt and heard a sharp intake of breath. "You're still so tight, Aurora… even after all the times I've fucked you," her friend muttered darkly.

_Faen!**[2]** _Elsa's arousal was instant at the scandalous sight. Her breath caught, and her face flushed as she became aware of an insistent throbbing between her every ounce of internal discipline she possessed, she tiptoed away from the door and headed for the Ladies' bathrooms on the floor below to splash cold water on her face.

Quickly doing so, she was drying her face with some paper towels when footsteps could be heard outside.

_'Shit, tell me they didn't know I was watching…'_ Elsa silently prayed as she heard someone enter the bathroom. She looked up into the mirror, fully expecting to see Mallie glaring daggers at her, arms folded and waiting for an explanation.

Relief washed over her as she saw Imelda Findlay, a prefect from one of the other classes standing there. "Miss Arandelle, Reception asked me to inform you that your guest Miss Gibney is waiting for you," the student relayed politely.

"Thank you, Imelda," Elsa answered trying to maintain her icy façade despite the carnal thoughts forming in her head. "Is she still in Reception?"

Imelda shook her head and smiled. "No, Miss Arandelle. She's waiting for you in your private quarters. Reception asked me to let her in."

Elsa nodded briskly, turning away to move back into the halls. Heading to her quarters, she urgently unlocked the door and went in, closing and locking it behind her. If Mallie could do this here, why not her?

Stalking down the hall like a panther, she moved even faster upon hearing noise from her bedroom.

Ava sat on the bed with a Starbuck's latte in her hand, reading a life and health magazine. She looked up as Elsa entered, and stood up to greet her with a smile. Placing the coffee and distraction down, she wrapped her arms around Elsa's waist in a tender show of affection. As she felt herself being whirled around, the medic gasped as Elsa reclaimed her in a tight grip from behind.

"We've never fucked here before," Elsa growled, causing the dark haired woman beneath her grasp to almost collapse.

"Jesus, Els'… What's gotten into you?" Ava gasped, grinding back shamelessly.

Reaching down, Elsa roughly unzipped her girlfriend's jeans walked them both towards the bed. Not relinquishing her hold on Ava for one second, she pushed her face down on the duvet. "We have to be quiet about it," she said provocatively, reaching around to slide her hand into the front of her girlfriend's soaked panties.

While crying out, Ava rocked backwards against her, sending shockwaves of pleasure to her core. "You like that idea, hmm?" Elsa breathed in the whimpering woman's ear, as she began rolling her own hips forward.

"Yes…Oh God. Elsa, please…" Ava whined, pressing her forehead hard against the duvet beneath her.

Glancing upwards and imagining what was probably still going on two floors above, Elsa smirked and thought: _'Game, set, match.'_

* * *

[1] Min vakker en – (Norwegian) My beautiful one.

[2] Faen! – Fuck!


	9. Et introibunt in Arenae

**A/N: Jack Nicholson voice* And heeeeeeere's Stefan! **

**Reads and reviews are rewarded with PMs full of goodness. XO, readers!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**Uninvited (Instrumental,) Alanis Morissette**

**Enter the Arena, Members of Mayday**

**Long Shot, Kelly Clarkson**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Et introibunt in** **Arenae (Enter the Arena)**

* * *

The intercom in Stefan's dark London office buzzed shrilly, interrupting the eerie quiet. "Mr. Carey is here to see you, sir," his secretary announced the lawyer's arrival, sounding a touch frazzled.

"Thank you Astrid, send him in please." Stefan answered in his usual clipped tone.

Crossing the thick white carpet of the reception to his client's office, the barrister noticed his solar plexus automatically tense as he entered the cold, uninviting lair of his employer.

Edward Carey had represented many dangerous and morally bankrupt clients, and was not easily intimidated. However, something about being in the presence of Stefan Rose deeply unsettled him. There was definitely more to this man than met even his experienced eye.

Leaning back in his burgundy leather chair to cross his legs, Stefan's glare was scathing. "I trust the boy is exercising his right not to say anything," he greeted the barrister the minute the door was closed, not one to waste time.

Taking a seat in one of the smaller chairs across from the desk, the barrister set his briefcase down. "He has refused to say or do anything of consequence," Carey confirmed. "Apart from swearing at one of the D.C.'s who interviewed him, and informing them that they wouldn't get his DNA."

Stefan's eyes were icy at that information. "I _sent_ you there to make sure the fool kept his mouth shut!" he snapped.

Carey held up a hand to appease him. "As I've already explained, Philip has not said or done anything of consequence. There's nothing for us to be worried about."

Stefan accepted this, and looked thoughtful. "Are the Crown Prosecution Services going to be involved?" he inquired, leaning forward to scribble on a notepad.

"Unfortunately, yes." Carey told the calculating businessman, clearing his throat and running a finger along the front of his shirt's tight neckline in nervousness. "The charges are sufficient for a prosecution, which will very likely result in a custodial sentence."

"How long?" Stefan didn't miss a beat, nor did he look up from his writing.

Carey debated the question briefly. "Having consulted with Philip, I've discovered that he only struck Miss Moore in self defence when he believed himself in danger of being struck by the object she was waving around. A… frying pan."

Stefan snorted. "Yes well, the woman's always had a knack for not taking the beating she deserves."

At that slip, Edward Carey's eyes narrowed in the direction of his client, but wisely ignored it. "In addition to the charge of Grievous Bodily Harm, Philip and the other…. gentleman, are facing charges of criminal trespass. However, as Philip did not show the intent required for a charge of GBH, I'm going to try and argue it down to common assault, for which he would serve six months."

Stefan silently digested this for a minute, tapping his pen to the legal pad. Finally, he looked up and spoke. "And on the charge of criminal trespass?"

Carey shook his head. "Another four to six weeks, but the prisons are so over crowded, it would be debatable as to whether he would serve the full term."

Seemingly irritated by that, Stefan began to grit his teeth together.

"I'm afraid we can't make this go away," the lawyer carried on fretfully at the sight of his employer's wrath. "Unless Miss Moore can be persuaded to drop the charges, that is."

He was met with a cold stare as hard as granite in response.

Rising to his feet from the leather chair he'd been sitting in, Edward Carey coughed and looked down at Stefan. "How do you wish for me to proceed regarding Philip?" he inquired, wishing for this meeting to end as soon as humanly possible. His skin was covered in gooseflesh, and the feeling that sinister workings were being withheld from him was pervasive.

"Give him legal aid, but nothing more," Stefan directed sharply. "Tell him not to come within fifty feet of this office; I'll contact him first."

Nodding, Carey left the cruel jewel trader to his day. Scurrying backwards, he escaped through the double doors once more.

Once the barrister had exited fully, Stefan slammed his fist down onto the desk. Logging into his computer with pounding fingers on the keyboard, he then pulled up the St. Augusta's Catholic School for Girls' website, and smashed the mouse button down when the cursor slid over 'Staff Directory.'

"Oh, I'll _persuade_ her all right," he raged.

* * *

Walking down the narrow path of gravel towards the hockey field, Aurora spotted the large crowd of spectators, which consisted of parents, teachers and of course the mandatory mob of nuns. The ankle length grass outside the pitch swayed in a faint breeze as Aurora joined the rest of the St. Augusta's team that was now gathered around Sr. Eileen.

"Did you come across Coach Arandelle on your travels?" the irate Sister waved her hand towards the school and then at Aurora. "There's no sign of her, and the match starts in ten minutes!" Whipping her head around at the sound of muted laughing behind her before Aurora could respond, the nun glared suspiciously. "Did I say something funny Serena Windsor?" she barked.

The schoolgirl shook her head before attempting to look sombre. "No, Sister Eileen," she said meekly.

Beside Serena stood Felicity. Dead eyed, she didn't join in the mirth. Her focus was on Aurora, who was standing in safety behind the old bat of a nun. The sting in her injured lip returned as if the very sight of her had re-opened the wound. '_You're not getting off that pitch alive, dyke,' _she thought murderously.

"At last, here she is!" Sr. Eileen muttered while checking her watch as Coach Arandelle came into view, running towards them. "Finally decided to join us have you?" The nun inquired sarcastically as Elsa drew level with them, only slightly out of breath.

"I'm sorry…" the Coach apologised, her usually perfect platinum hair now wet and scraped back in a messy bun. "I got held d- held up!"

Rushing past the apprehensive nun to the waiting team, Elsa did a headcount.

"Where's Aurora?" she asked worriedly, spinning on the pitch. "Oh! There you are! Um, so right now the opposition have…" Elsa stopped mid speech seeing the open hostility between Felicity and Aurora.

Motioning to the side of the pitch to take both girls aside, Elsa's tone of voice was guarded and serious. "If you two can't leave your differences aside, you're out of the game. _Do you understand_?"

Despite the anger simmering between them, the girls indicated they could with sharp nods and sideways glances.

Elsa looked from one to the other. "I mean it," she warned sternly.

"We're fine," Aurora responded deceptively before asking lightly, "Aren't we Felicity?"

Felicity nodded wordlessly, smiling back with tight eyes.

Against her better judgement, Elsa let them go ahead. "All right, go join the team then," she sighed and waved towards the field.

The noise of the crowd swelled as the St. Augusta's team marched onto the pitch.

Dressed in shin guards, eye masks and wielding their hockey sticks like weapons, they looked fearsome. On the other side of the line, the Sanderson college hockey team kitted out in similar protective wear fell into position. Both teams eyed the black ball at the centre of the pitch, waiting tensely for the referee to allow them start.

A whistle blew sharply. It was game on.

Ten minutes into the game, the nuns hopped up and down in excitement behind the spectator barrier as Serena Windsor ran like the wind with the ball up the pitch towards the Sanderson goalkeeper. Dodging the other girl, Serena raced past her and lashed the ball into the now open goal.

Wild applause erupted, mainly from the teachers of St. Augusta's and staff. It was followed by shouts of "Good on you girl, fook her up!" A few parents looked around in uncomfortable surprise, unsure whether that had come from the students or the nuns.

On the sidelines, Elsa and Maleficent both tried to compose themselves from recent events while watching the match a considerable distance away from the other spectators.

"I'm really worried the McGovern girl is going to hurt Aurora," Elsa confided to the Latin teacher beside her, who promptly snorted.

If the stuck up little Daddy's girl laid one hand on Aurora, Maleficent would have to be dragged off her_. _ The towering brunette shifted her scalding hot tea from one hand to the other. "Aurora can take care of herself," she assured her friend.

Spotting a strangely dazed looking Ava join the spectators behind the barrier, Maleficent sipped her tea daintily before speaking. "How fortunate that you didn't leave your door ajar this morning, _Miss Arandelle_," she observed casually, knowing that her use of the woman's full name would remind Elsa of their whereabouts, and embarrass her even further.

Looking at the ground, Elsa felt warmth creep up her neck, mortified beyond belief.

Laying a hand on the Physical Education teacher's shoulder before squeezing lightly, Maleficent smirked. "You forget I have phenomenal hearing."

A particular nasty curse crossed the mind of the Coach. Her worst fear was becoming a reality as she heard Maleficent teasingly imitate a sexually aroused woman out loud, barely drowned out by the cheering of the hundreds of spectators.

"Oh Elsa! Oh gawwwwd, please!" Maleficent simpered lustily. Seeing her friend cringe beside her, her chest puffed out a bit. "What were you _doing_ to the woman?"

Blushing furiously, Elsa shoved Maleficent's shoulder. "You can't! I was…" Huffing in frustration at being unsettled, she tried to come back under control. "_Stop _that!" she protested.

Throwing back her head, Maleficent laughed before casting a sideways glance of rare humor. She was about to say something raunchy to really get under Elsa's skin when a disturbance on the pitch caught their attention. "Shit!" she swore, pointing at the ruckus.

A Sanderson girl went down while grabbed by the hair, and a hockey stick flew up in the air. Maleficent and Elsa ran, the Latin teacher throwing her paper cup onto the grass behind her as they sprinted towards the drama.

All hell had broken loose on the pitch, and the match abandoned. Multiple Sanderson College girls fought the opposition of St. Augusta's in a pile of squirming, screaming teenagers. Nuns were shoving past astonished parents to get access to the absolute riot going on in the middle of the field.

It had started when a Sanderson College girl had accidentally tripped Lisa Harper, who grabbed the offender by the hair. Felicity, already burning with rage, had dived into the fracas. Seeing their fellow student getting hopped on by two St. Augusta's girls, Sanderson College had run to her aid.

Close enough now to see the potential for serious injury, Elsa jumped the barrier while instructing some nearby students to help her.

"GET THE HOSE!" Sr. Eileen roared over the thud of hockey sticks hitting flesh and bone and screams that wouldn't have sounded out of place in a massacre. Several nuns were now involved in the mass brawl between the teams. Pulling warring girls off each other, Sr. Eileen and Elsa tried in vain to break up the rest.

Aurora had lost her hockey stick in the madness, and now backed away out of the fight. Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity pulled free of the crowd and turned towards her.

As Maleficent witnessed Felicity's vicious stare while standing just outside the barrier, she moved to warn Aurora, but even her loud calls couldn't be heard over the roaring. Short of hopping the barrier herself, all she could do was watch as her beloved stood her ground. Felicity was gaining on the Aurora, hands balled into fists.

She swore to whatever God there was: if any harm came to Aurora, she'd beat the McGovern girl to death in her sleep. Nobody would miss the little shit.

As the narrow distance closed between them, Maleficent held her breath and winced in anticipation. She couldn't bear to look, but couldn't turn away.

Felicity reached Aurora, kicking at the shorter girl's midriff with the full intent to break some ribs.

Jumping back and just out of reach, Aurora then feignted and leapt forward to grab her attacker by the collar of her polo, and smacked Felicity's face first into the ground.

They rolled around on the grass, throwing slaps, curses and punches. Sr. Eileen ran over, and attempted to tug the girls apart.

Felicity was now bleeding profusely from her nose, but Aurora was too angry to stop. Blood rushed through her own ears, dimming clear noise down to a sort of murmuring mass of humanity.

"Maleficent Moore, what have you done? A week and a half in your care and she's turned into a quivering, snarling, white-hot ball of teenage terror!" Sr. Eileen screamed. "Get in here and help me!"

As Maleficent finally swung her legs over the barrier, Felicity McGovern lay unconscious on the ground with a bloody face. One last slap from Aurora had done the deed as the first wave of water from the industrial school hose hit the pitch, sending girls screaming in different directions.

Approaching stiffly, Maleficent took Aurora's arm and hauled her to standing. "That's_ enough_ now," she growled for the show of it. She very well couldn't appear proud of the behaviour in front of the crowds.

Shrugging off Maleficent's touch and retrieving her hockey stick from nearby, Aurora stalked off the pitch with an infuriated screech.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually beat Felicity McGovern into unconsciousness," Maleficent sighed. Her tone was disappointed, but her smirk was amused. "Today, plus the incident in the woods that Miss Arandelle was willing to overlook…" she shook her head slowly at Aurora, "you'll be lucky if you don't get some sort of disciplinary action."

Aurora sat on the couch, still shaky with adrenaline even an hour and a half of screaming nuns and a drive in the Jag later. Maleficent had insisted that she would be punished accordingly at home, but some of the Sisters still had their knickers in a twist. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Haven't you ever just…" her balled-up fists rose quickly into the air, and she snarled. "I needed to. She keeps running her damned mouth about us."

Chuckling under her breath, Maleficent raised an eyebrow and reclined against the living room window-seat with her knees up. Her crossed arms rested across those knees, and her fingers tapped in annoyance. Pursing her crimson lips, she looked deep in thought for a moment, and then turned her gleaming eyes back to the girl who seemed to squirm under her formidable scrutiny. "I used to be a scrapper, Aurora. It gets you nowhere but laid up in bed with ice packs on your face, wondering why you ever fought back."

"Used to be?" Aurora retorted smartly. "You still pack a pretty good swing, if the other night was any clue." Sinking deeper into the couch in an attempt to escape the enquiry, she pulled the cable knit throw from the side and covered herself. It didn't make the burning sensation of Maleficent's intense stare go away, but it was a comfort. "Why did you fight when you were younger?" she mumbled, feeling a bit childish and wanting to be on the same level with her lover in some way.

Exhaling dramatically, Maleficent stood up from the window-seat and walked over to sit beside Aurora. "I'm not being entirely truthful when I say there's no reason to fight back," she began, linking her long, thin fingers with Aurora's shorter ones to bring them up to her face. Pressing Aurora's index finger to the bridge of her nose, she continued. "Broken nose, September of 1999. That was the first broken nose, and I remember it all too well. I always fought back during punishments, so the Headmistress would swing blindly, hoping to catch some part of me."

At Aurora's suddenly sad eyes, she knew the message was becoming clear. She dragged the pad of the girl's finger down the bumpy bridge of her nose to her lips and tapped it there. "A few broken teeth," she grinned, and then chomped her teeth together with a clacking noise, eliciting a giggle of surprise from Aurora. "My front teeth are capped." Sweeping their hands upwards and to her left cheek, she brushed their linked fingers along a thin scar that was mostly hidden by her hairline. "A girl I kissed in 2000… her older sister clocked me good. Nobody much cared about it – they thought I was receiving my comeuppance. The headmistress refused to take me for stitches, so…" the finger tapped the scar.

Aurora's eyes became glassy with tears, and she bit at her bottom lip. Maleficent traced her finger down to her neck, and over what she'd always thought was a wrinkle across the silky expanse of the woman's neck. Underneath the feathery touch, Maleficent gulped once and stared at the ceiling.

"October 5th, 1998. A chain garrotte." was all she said before lowering her gaze to meet Aurora's eyes for a moment while biting at her lip. "That's all I wish to say about that," Maleficent whispered before looking down at the carpet. Their linked hands slid slowly to Aurora's blanket covered lap.

"You were always defending yourself," Aurora surmised, suddenly feeling extremely immature for the day's earlier events. At her conclusion, Maleficent shrugged and stood up, breaking the contact of their hands. The loss of the touch felt important to Aurora, as if her heart was being drawn upwards by some invisible tether to her love, who was now breathing heavily and slowly turning to escape the conversation.

Sweeping the throw aside to stand, Aurora grabbed at Maleficent's retreating figure, slipping her fingers inside the back of the woman's tailored pants to tug her to stop.

Maleficent's shoulders rose and fell in mild irritation, and she turned to face the source of resistance. She hated to have Aurora see her cry, but it looked as if the stubborn girl would have her way. At Aurora's wide blue eyes conveying understanding and acceptance, a dam inside her chest broke and a sob escaped her lips.

"Hey, it's okay…" Aurora comforted, pulling her into a secure embrace. She nuzzled her way into the crook of Maleficent's neck, and peppered light kisses along the scar. Beneath her, Maleficent trembled and sighed, probably in relief that she didn't push the subject further. Needing to soothe and be soothed, Aurora's mind raced through what could be done. Baking? No, they were both tired. A nap? No, she was filthy and sweaty. Filthy and sweaty…

"Let's go take a shower!" she exclaimed, startling Maleficent with her excited shout.

Maleficent pulled back and stared down with a look of suspicion. "A show-er…" her tongue drew the word out in skepticism.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "Look, we're both tense. I'm dirty from the pitch and…Well, I'm just dirty." Allowing a light smile to cross her lips, she figured an incentive would help. "I could wash your hair for you," she lured in a singsong way.

"Mmm," came the drawn out reply. "You are indeed a dirty, naughty beast of a girl," Maleficent responded, a hint of roughness to her voice. Slowly, her hands came up between them to fumble at the buttons of Aurora's hockey polo. As they came undone, her fingernails grazed the revealed flesh. A particularly feisty gleam crossed her green eyes.

_'__Yes,' _Aurora sighed in her mind. She knew that allowing Maleficent some sort of dominance would appease the woman so much better than sweetness and apologies. Blinking her eyelashes coquettishly, she grinned cheekily. "But, I'm _your _dirty, naughty beast," she teased.

A sharp quirk came to Maleficent's lips, and she backed away to walk towards the stairwell, unbuttoning the top of her pants as she went. "Come then, _beastie._"

* * *

As Maleficent washed the bruises around her face and neck tenderly, Aurora felt the stress melting away like the dirt and blood that must be swirling the drain. Unlike their agreement downstairs, the older woman had insisted Aurora not wash her, and instead rather demandingly took the loofah to the parts of her own body that were covered in grass stains and other filth.

It was as if she were trying to erase the afternoon's fight and replace her innocence, Aurora thought wryly.

"There now," Maleficent wiped the last of the soap away to kiss the tip of her nose.

The actions making her feel intensely beloved, Aurora repeated the memory rapidly in the next moments, trying to file it away forever. Two words from Maleficent could mean so very much. Right now, Aurora thought they meant something between _'you're safe now,'_ and_ 'I love you.' _

Satisfied that Aurora was at the very least clean, Maleficent leaned forward to kiss at the young woman's neck, and then run her teeth down a pulse point. "Are you very sore from destroying your enemy?" she joked against the wet and sweet smelling skin.

"Mmm, not anymore," Aurora moaned, unconsciously spreading her legs to strengthen her stance in the slippery shower.

Maleficent's reply was sharp and laden with approval. "Good. Turn around, then. Hands on the tile." Her hands guided Aurora's hips to turn, well aware of their precariousness as the water continued to run over them in rivulets.

Her eyes brightening with eagerness, Aurora followed the direction. Bracing her hands against the tile, she smiled pleasantly as she expected good things to come.

"Ready?" Maleficent asked, her voice deep with need. As Aurora nodded, her hand came back a ways before coming down to land squarely on the girl's round bottom with a smack.

"Ahh!" Aurora squeaked, her palms gripping the tile as much as they could… which wasn't much. Peering back over her shoulder in annoyance, she bit back some choice curses. "What was that for?"

Grinning wickedly, Maleficent's gaze was smouldering. "I did promise to punish you, didn't I?" she reminded her. "Face to the front if you please, Miss Rose."

Grumbling under her breath, Aurora did so. She locked her knees in anticipation, but was surprised when she didn't feel the sting of a spanking when Maleficent's hands touched her once more. A palm cupped her rear where the smack had been laid, caressing softly before sliding down to spread her from behind. She felt her lover's tall, lithe body move closely behind her, and a hand came forward to rest atop hers on the tile. As teeth scraped down her neck and onto her spine between shoulder blades, Aurora groaned and panted. The hand that was pleasuring her slid back and forth easily in the dampness of arousal and water, dipping one finger and then two into her slick folds to tease her into a shivering mess.

Throwing her head back with a gasp, Aurora's moans began to echo the shower. Suddenly, Maleficent removed her hand from the wall and from her flesh. Beyond curious, Aurora's head turned against her better judgement to see her teacher licking her fingers clean with a satisfied and cunning smile before the woman exited the shower.

"W… Wait! Where are you going?" Aurora called after her. She hurriedly shut the water off and slid the curtain open.

In the main area of the bathroom, Maleficent stood drying herself off with a towel and looking quite pleased with herself. Inclining her head of wet, wavy mahogany hair towards Aurora, she shook her head. "Consider this your punishment for your insolence, beastie."

Aurora stepped out of the shower, animated in her disbelief. "You can't just… stop!"

Laughing merrily, Maleficent dropped the towel into the hamper and sashayed into the bedroom. "I _can, _and I just _did._ Perhaps if you learn to behave, you'll earn your privileges back," she teased.

Following hot on her lover's heels, Aurora was about to issue a litany of disapproval for her assigned penance when Maleficent's cell phone rang jarringly from the bedside table.

Eyeing it in distaste for the interruption, Maleficent snatched it from the table and slid it to Talk. "Hello?" she answered crisply.

A little girl's voice cried out on the other end. "Aurora! Oh, Aurora! Who is this… and where is my sister?" she wailed.

The girl's shrill fear clawed at Maleficent's gut, sending her emotions spiralling. Handing the phone to Aurora, she whispered gently. "It's for you."

Aurora looked confused, but took the iPhone from Maleficent's proffered hand. "H-Hello?" she asked. Who would call Maleficent's cell phone looking for her?

"Oh my God!" Tara shrieked. "Papa is sending me to Scotland tomorrow morning, and it's all your fault he says- because you've been very bad. Come home, please! Please, Aurora… Come home!"


	10. Desipientia (Desperation)

**A/N: As some may have noticed by the note she left in the Reviews section, Eve will no longer be continuing on as co-author of Peccatum in Carne due to personal reasons. ****:(**** I'm sure she'll stick around to be a part of the creative process though, and that makes me very happy. :)**

**I'm still here, and I'll be glad to take us til' the end (which isn't for a long while yet readers, don't worry.) **

**Reads and reviews are given yummy coffee and warm hugs. XO, Coco**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**Cadence of Her Last Breath, Nightwish **

**Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood, Meshell Ndegeocello**

**Come Sunday Morning, Leah Andreone**

**Bedroom Hymns, Florence + the Machine **

* * *

**Chapter 10: Desipientia (Desperation) **

* * *

_She heard her own whimpering, and felt the hot shame of guilt creeping up her neck once more. Biting at her fist to keep from screaming, Maleficent was back under her bed in that room full of billowy white curtains and pink frills. The crashing of furniture and bodies meeting one another rang out from downstairs, and her father's loud shouting was cut off abruptly._

_The door to her bedroom creaked open and shut quickly, and while she might have been glad to see her mother's feet tiptoeing across the carpet any other time, tonight she knew that it would lead to whomever was downstairs to come up here._

_"Mallie, no matter what... Hide!" her mother's labored whispers begged._

_A blood-curdling scream met her ears as the door swung open again – this time forcibly enough to splinter the wood. Her mother's feet turned towards the door to meet black boots head on, and the scream became silent. Delicate ankles turned akimbo like a ragdoll collapsing, but stopped short of falling as they were dragged out of the doorway and down the hall._

_Unable to hold it in any longer, a tiny cry escaped her lips._

_The bedskirt came flying up to admit gloved hands underneath the bed. They grabbed roughly at her kicking ankles. Her shrieks flowed freely now._

_"Found you!" the man said, vile intention lacing every facet of his gruff voice._

* * *

Jolting awake, Maleficent's hand flew to her throbbing head. Whenever she had this particular nightmare, she'd clench her jaw so tight that a migraine would haunt her for days afterwards. Her heart still pounded rapidly against her ribs, and she scrambled from beneath the cable knit throw and up the stairs to the bathroom.

Her shaking hands swung open the medicine cabinet mirror to grasp desperately at bottles of medication – medication she'd forgotten to take before passing out from exhaustion on the couch at 4:30AM. She and Aurora had stayed up half the night fighting, crying, pleading, and yelling. The girl was determined to find a way to London, abscond with her sister, and bring the child here.

Maleficent knew that was the easiest way to bring Stefan Rose to their doorstep with constables and Children's Services in tow – a most unwelcome idea. It's what Aurora's father wanted; he'd stop at nothing to ruin her life now that she was no longer under his thumb. Her A-Level exams for Physical Sciences were in only two days, and Maleficent refused to allow Aurora to throw away two years of Sixth Form[1] over Stefan's manipulation.

Her bleary eyes tried to make sense of the tiny prescription writing as she angrily picked each one out of the sink where they'd fallen in her haste. Leaving out the Zolpidem[2] as a reminder, her hand finally settled on the bottle that said Clonazepam[3]. She hated taking the numbing drug, but didn't see any other option at this point. Panting, she twisted the white bottle's top and thrust a finger inside for the blessed relief. Her fingers met air – the bottle was empty.

"Fuck!" she growled, her hand wrapping so tightly around the traitorous bottle that her knuckles whitened.

Through the bathroom's side door to the bedroom, she heard sheets rustling followed by Aurora whimpering. The noise stabbed at Maleficent's heart, and she bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

She didn't want to leave Aurora alone after such a fight, afraid beyond reason that she'd come home to an empty house. Worse yet, Maleficent didn't want Aurora to be here without her, considering the situation increasingly unsafe in her anxiety. She didn't have much of a choice. Tara's terrified shrieking over the phone to Aurora last night had reminded her of the sound of her own screaming.

Rushing into the walk in closet, she slid open the drawers as quietly as possible before slipping on the first bra and underwear she laid hands on, a favorite black tee shirt, and black jeans. Her Doc Martens had been left off the shelf from her drunken evening out earlier in the week, and Maleficent shoved her feet into them, not bothering with the laces.

Resolving herself to driving to the chemist and then to the grocer's for breakfast, she moved towards the bed silently now, not wanting to wake Aurora. The blankets had twisted around the young woman's form as she tossed and turned in the night. Maleficent's hands came up to straighten the outermost layer and tuck it in gently around Aurora's shoulders before running her palms whisper-light over the girl's form.

Aurora had been particularly angry last night when she'd accused her of acting like a teenager. As soon as the words had flown out from Maleficent's mouth, she knew that they had been intensely hurtful, and she wished to take back the harsh words more than anything they'd hurled at one another. In return, the inconsolable young woman had called Maleficent a controlling tyrant. The insult had cut deep.

However mature Aurora acted on occasion, it was unfair to assume that the eighteen year old would never fly off the handle or act irrationally. Hell, even she acted rashly sometimes at twenty-nine to revel in the rare feeling of freedom.

An apology would come later, but in the meantime Maleficent had an idea. She sat down at the writing desk near the bed and began to fold a sheet of paper methodically. The tip of her tongue slipped through the front of her teeth in concentration as she did so; it had been over a decade since she'd done something like this, and the note inside was usually one of those adorably vomit-inducing 'Yes or No' questions.

Once satisfied with her folding, she wrote her thoughts as quickly as possible:

Aurora,

Please ~ don't go anywhere.

I will be home soon . . . I've only just gone to the grocer's.

Be safe. Don't open the door for anyone. I have my keys.

Stay.

Mal

Feeling very much a teenager once more, Maleficent folded the note into a heart and deposited it on the empty pillow next to Aurora's head before walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. In her haste, she didn't realize that she'd forgotten her phone on the nightstand where it had laid ever since Aurora's tense call with Tara had ended.

She crept down the stairs to grab her purse and keys from the hanger near the door. Once outside, Maleficent turned around to pull the front door tightly against the jamb before locking both the bottom lock and the deadbolt with her keys. She turned around to walk to the car, but stopped short and swung back towards the door again.

Yanking on the handle and wiggling the door, it still wasn't good enough. Her hands unlocked and locked the door again before she pulled on the handle with all of her might. When it didn't budge, a comforted sigh escaped her lips.

At last, she tossed her purse into the blue Jag and sat down to start the car. As she wrenched the wheel towards the road, Maleficent's foot smashed down on the gas pedal. The Jag's wheels squealed, throwing gravel as the car sped down the drive and towards the highway.

* * *

At the pinging noise of gravel hitting the cottage's outer walls, Aurora woke, just as angry as when she'd finally fallen asleep at 4:29 AM.

Beside her on Maleficent's unused pillow was one of those stupid, cutesy folded notes. She grabbed it with one hand while rubbing at her eyes with the other; fully intending to throw it across the room like the teenager she'd been accused of being last night.

As her arm wound up to toss the note, her ears registered two things: The cottage was eerily quiet, and Maleficent had left her phone on the nightstand. It was vibrating annoyingly against the wood. Aurora snatched it up.

The iPhone blinked accusingly at her. '3 Missed Calls - 1 New Message from E. Arandelle.'

Feeling quite naughty, she grinned and tapped in the passcode that she'd seen Maleficent enter the night before; 2-0-0-4. She took the phone with her as she padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Once she'd figured out that the car was missing and that Maleficent had left the cottage, Aurora answered Miss Arandelle's text wondering why "Mallie" hadn't picked up her damn phone. Giggling madly when her teacher inquired as to whom was texting, she pulled up the Photo app and snapped a picture of her bedraggled form and sent it. Let Miss Arandelle think what she wanted.

Moments later, the phone rang in her hand. Miss Arandelle was calling... again.

Aurora's eyebrow rose in mischievousness as she slid the Answer toggle. "Maleficent Moore's phone, Aurora speaking," she announced sarcastically as the call connected.

_"Er du gal, du lille krabaten?!"_ came the shrill reply.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Aurora winced and put the call on speaker - just in case of a repeat performance. "Uhm, Miss Arandelle? English," she reminded the woman.

An indignant huff came from the phone as Elsa replied. "_I said_ – Have you gone completely nuts, you little rascal? What are you doing with Miss Moore's phone, and where is she? _Where are you?_"

Still angry at Maleficent for the night before, Aurora glowered and crossed her arms at the iPhone as it lay on the kitchen countertop. "_Mallie _isn't here right now, I told you. I'm at the cottage, and I'm not crazy… I'm a _teenager," _she responded tartly.

Elsa sighed in frustration, but drawled her voice as if she knew precisely what the issue was. "Yes, Aurora. You _are_ a teenager." Pausing to tell a woman in the background whom she was talking to, she came back to the conversation at hand. "Did you two fight?"

Emotions getting the better of her at Miss Arandelle's instant understanding and assumption, Aurora's eyes watered and her lip trembled. "Y-yes," she bawled. "It was awful, Miss Arandelle! My sister called from London saying that my father was sending her to Scotland because I was disobeying him, and Maleficent forbade me from going to get her. She said I wasn't thinking properly, that I'd bring the police down on our heads if I went and got Tara!"

Hiccupping and wiping at her eyes, she continued her ramble. "She said I was acting like a teenager! I don't _care, _Miss Arandelle! I just want my sister!" Groaning, she remembered the horrible, awful things she'd said to Maleficent. "She was so mean. _I was so mean."_

"Elsa," was the quiet answer. Another sigh, this one sad.

"W-what?" Aurora sniffed, not understanding.

"Call me Elsa. I'm your um… Mallie's best friend, and if you want to keep her, there are some things you have got to understand Aurora. I've known Mallie for nine years. Nine _long _years, and even I don't pretend to know how to map out the entire iceberg that is Maleficent Moore poking her head out from the ocean."

Asking someone named Ava to get her a cup of coffee, Elsa went on. "Sit down, sweetie. She'd kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but I don't see other way. The year was 2004, and I was attending American University in Washington D.C. on international scholarship. I didn't have a room mate, and the flats there are atrociously expensive…"

* * *

Maleficent sat in the chemists' waiting area, her legs crossing and uncrossing in agitation. Somehow, she'd let her script lapse. While the fine pharmacist had offered to call her doctor for more and rush it through, it didn't make the wait any less unbearable.

She glanced at her watch to grit her teeth at the time: 12:41PM. Aurora must be out of her mind with worry by now, having no way of contacting her because she'd forgotten her phone at home. Either that, or she'd hopped a train back to London. Perhaps both.

Glaring at the grocery bags at her feet, she could almost imagine the pints of Death by Chocolate ice cream melting into slop. Hopefully, the freezer would salvage it, but she wanted it _now._

Standing up to stretch her back, her fingertips drummed against her sides in impatience. Meeting the eye of the clerk, she tried to smile pleasantly. It probably came out as more of a grimace. "Do you still sell cigs here?"

The young man behind the counter smiled back and shook his head slowly. "Not since a few years back. We have e-cigarettes though, if you want to quit. Smoking is bad for you, you know. A pretty lady such as yourself…"

Irritated by the offer and his insinuation, Maleficent interrupted him. "What are you, sixteen? Who made you a doctor?" she snapped.

Scurrying back behind the shelves of medicines, the clerk looked wide-eyed back at her.

"Sorry!" she called at him, not really meaning it. Beyond irritated now, she sat back down to lay her head back against the wall and close her eyes. The noise of papers shuffling and pills being sorted assaulted her ears, but she did her best to ignore it.

_Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. _The sound of heavy boots walking towards the waiting area perked her ears.

_The squeak of leather against laces as the boots bent with the wearer's foot. _She took a deep breath and refused to acknowledge the dread clawing at her gut.

_Clank, clink, clank. Jangle, clank. _A metal chain dangling.

Shooting out of the chair like a rocket, Maleficent's eyes searched the immediate area. She glared fiercely in the direction of the noise, her fists balled.

"Jesus Christ, lady! What the hell?!" the boy yelped and jumped back. He was just one of those punk-loving, chain-wallet wearing kids; the kind that stapled old 'The Misfits' and 'Sex Pistols' patches on their ripped denim vests.

Forcing her glare into a mask of calm, Maleficent's nostrils flaring still gave her distress away. "You're… very," she stammered, trying to find the words. "Noisy. You're very noisy. I didn't mean to frighten you."

The boy rolled his eyes at her, turning his back to peruse the selection of chewing gum.

Finally, the pharmacist walked rapidly towards the counter to wave a white paper bag in her direction.

"Miss Moore? Miss Moore… All done, now," he chattered on nervously.

* * *

Aurora jumped out of the lounge chair in the library nook at the sound of the Jag pulling up the drive. She'd learned a lot from Elsa during their two-hour chat while the teacher enjoyed a lull in family time in Oslo. Knowing so much more about Maleficent made her nervous and jerky, but also ecstatic. She could barely contain herself from doing a happy dance in the foyer.

They'd lived together in Washington D.C. while completing the last bit of undergraduate and then master's degrees, and Elsa had followed Maleficent to England to take the vacant spot available in the Physical Education department at St. Augusta's while her friend took her post as teacher of Latin. She'd mellowed a lot during their years as friends, apparently.

_"Geez, Aurora - when I met her for coffee to go over the rental agreement between us, I think she smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. Five locks on the loft door, and a strict promise never to wake her up without announcing myself first, loudly. I made the mistake of doing it **once**, and she nearly tore me a new one," _Elsa had laughed.

_"You have it easy, kiddo. Those cashmere sweaters and khaki suit coats? Bah. You and I both know – that's not the real Mallie."_

Aurora couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at the history between the two, especially knowing how Elsa had thrown herself at Maleficent during the staff's last Christmas party. No matter how much the Physical Education teacher assured her that they were just friends and how much she loved her now-fiancée Ava, the sting bit a little at her heart. The congratulations she'd given regarding the recent proposal in Oslo had been heartfelt, though.

While waiting the long hours for Maleficent to come home, she'd felt horribly insensitive for yelling at the woman the evening prior. In Aurora's pocket was the note that she'd left for her. It had been so lovingly written, begging her to stay. She'd gone to retrieve it from the bedroom while speaking on the phone.

Elsa's parting words replayed in her mind. _"She just wants to protect you, beyond all her better judgment to let you be a dumb kid and make your own mistakes. She really loves you, Aurora. Please don't mess this up by flying off the deep end on her."_

As Maleficent finally unlocked the front door and entered, Aurora's entire being shook with anticipation. Launching herself at her lover, she peppered kisses all over the woman's sharp cheekbones and plump lips.

"I'm… sorry. I'm. So. Sorry," she spoke between each kiss. "I didn't mean to call you names," she sighed her apology, hugging Maleficent as tightly as she could.

Grocery bags spilled from the tall woman's hands to litter the foyer floor.

Beneath Aurora's urgent embrace, Maleficent melted. "I didn't mean to negate your feelings as immature," she whispered, squeezing Aurora for good measure. "There are ways we can help Tara, but we have to go about it the _right _way, do you understand me?" her voice took on a serious edge.

"Yes! Yes!" Aurora squealed, hopping up and down. She rose on her tiptoes to pull Maleficent into a delighted kiss, which her lover turned around and deepened into a blisteringly lustful one.

Pulling away to gasp for breath, Aurora giggled as she felt fingers dance up the inside of her shirt to her ribs.

"Are you particularly fond of this tee shirt?" Maleficent mumbled, pressing kiss after kiss onto Aurora's neck before nipping her teeth at a tender earlobe.

"N-no… But the groceries," Aurora protested mildly.

Her t-shirt was torn halfway up her stomach before she could get out another word. Maleficent lifted her from beneath her rear, and all Aurora could do from falling was wrap her legs around the surprisingly jean-clad hips.

"Screw the groceries, the ice cream's melted any how," came a bitter mutter from the crimson painted lips, smeared from kissing so passionately.

Aurora's eyes zeroed in on the blurred lines surrounding Maleficent's lips and blushed when she felt warmth shoot straight to the juncture between her thighs. "Ice cream?" she squeaked.

While marching them up the stairs and into the bedroom, Maleficent rolled her eyes before giving Aurora a hungry look. She tossed the girl onto the bed and proceeded to maul the poor, mangled tee shirt some more, insistent on feeling Aurora's soft skin beneath her hands sooner rather than later.

Aurora wriggled out of the tee shirt with a sly grin and held Maleficent's hands to her breasts, glad she hadn't bothered getting dressed out of her pajamas today. Her sleep shorts rode up against her sensitive flesh as Maleficent's knee pressed between her legs, before the woman leaned to nibble at her neck and downwards to worship her nipples.

Her hands wandering, Aurora tried to lift Maleficent's shirt but stopped when the chestnut-tressed head shook in disapproval. Her lover bit down sharply in admonition, and Aurora suddenly found her hands being drawn upwards, captured in Maleficent's strong grasp.

A groan of displeasure quickly turned into a yelp as Maleficent flipped her over on the bed to swiftly tug the shorts down, not wasting any time before plunging fingers into her dripping core. Aurora moaned long and loud, surprised at the animalistic quality that had overtaken her normally girlish noises.

Throwing her head back with a breathy sigh, she pushed back at Maleficent to rock in the same rhythm that was being set from behind. She thrust her chest down into a hand that had snuck under to tug, pinch, pull and knead.

As Maleficent leaned heavily against her back, the softness of her shirt sent shivers up Aurora's spine. Her hearing tuned into the noises coming from her lover's mouth: for every one of Aurora's gasping inhalations or throaty moans, there was one matching it. It seemed to her dazed mind that Maleficent's deepest need today was to _take _her. The air was heady with it – _take, take, take._

Aurora gave, finding strange and exciting the completion she felt in the blinding light of the afternoon sun as she came apart.

* * *

Phillip sat on the cold, unforgiving plastic chair of the interview room at HMP Holme House, the medium security prison in Stockton-on-Tees. He'd been assigned here to await prosecution for breaking into Maleficent Moore's home, and he was livid.

Stefan was willing to let him rot in a jail cell for six months at the very least, according to the barrister Mr. Carey. Refusing to go down for an errand his own employer had sent him on, he'd requested to meet with Detective Sergeant George Willows once more.

The D.S. sat down and opened a file with a flourish, smirking at him with a knowing grin.

Phillip scowled back; painfully aware that what he was about to do could possibly end his life if the Detective Sergeant didn't agree to his terms.

As D.S. George Willows pressed 'Record' on the tape player between them, he hovered a pen over the file. "So, Mr. Ulstead – you claim to have some grand information on a cold case double homicide from 1998. You implicate your employer, Mr. Stefan Rose."

Stopping to scribble onto the paper within the thick file, he then droned on. "It is our understanding that you wish to be placed in protective custody during your assistance to the case, in exchange for the Crown setting aside your lesser charges if the information comes to fruition. Is this correct to the best of your knowledge?"

Gulping down his fear of Stefan in favor of escaping the fear of this hellhole, Phillip nodded. "Yes. Stefan Rose killed Miss Moore's parents, and her grandparents. It's why he wanted me to harass her – to shake her up. He's been looking for her for years."

Chuckling to himself, D.S. George Willows shook his head. "And just how did you come across such information, Mr. Ulstead?"

Phillip's eyes took on a superior gleam. "There's a picture, in Stefan's home. I'd gone over to pick up some… files for him before we headed out to her place. I noticed an old photo in the hallway, framed all nice. He was sidling up to Miss Moore's parents during some kind of party," he reasoned out.

"So?" the Detective questioned.

"C'mon! It was Maleficent Moore's birthday party. Kind of odd for a man who told you he didn't know why I was at Miss Moore's house with another guy Stefan claims not to know, huh? _Really_ strange for a guy who I am sure told you that he didn't even know Miss Moore before this year, or her real name!" Phillip yelled while noticing a gleam of recognition in the Detective's eye at the last bit of information he'd spilled.

Hoping he was right, Phillip continued to rat Stefan out. "I know you've got to know her real name, man. You seem like the kind of cop who does his homework. If Stefan Rose were chasing me, I'd vanish too. You'll help me disappear, right?" The eagerness in his voice showed his desperation.

His interest piqued, the Detective Sergeant leaned forward. "Tell me," he ordered.

* * *

[1] A-Level/Sixth Form – The **General Certificate of Education (GCE) Advanced Level**, or **A Level**, is a secondary school leaving qualification in the United Kingdom. A Levels require studying an offered A level subject over a two-year period and sitting for an examination at the end of each year (AS and A2, respectively, often called Sixth Form.)

[2] Zolpidem – Commonly marketed as Ambien, used to treat insomnia and night terrors.

[3] Clonazepam – Commonly marketed as Klonopin, used to treat panic disorder and anxiety.


	11. Amor Vincit Cedamus Amori

**A/N: A lot happens in this chapter, folks! Get ready for the ride. Reviews are the truth and the light. Please, if you enjoy the story – leave a note. They make me smile, and give me inspiration. I'd like to give a very special shout out to Eve who helped immensely with the police section of this chapter. She's such a doll for being my sounding board and giving lots of advice and even a page of written word even though she's got so much going on. **

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Somebody Loves You," Betty Who**

**"Fidelity," Regina Spektor**

**"Push," Madonna**

**"You Make Me Remember," Leah Andreone**

**"Run, Daddy, Run," Miranda Lambert with the Pistol Annies**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Amor Vincit; Cedamus Amori (Love Conquers; Surrender to Love)**

* * *

Aurora woke to the smell of toast and eggs cooking, and her stomach growled in response. Stretching blissfully, she relished in the soreness in her joints that typically came after a romp with Maleficent. She rolled around for a bit in the bed, grumbling once she'd looked at her phone. It was ungodly early – 6:22AM on Saturday, June 21st. They'd only gone to bed six hours ago, Maleficent insisting because Aurora needed to rest before her A-Level exams today.

While the sounds of cooking continued downstairs, Aurora padded off to the bathroom and yawned. She brushed her teeth, staring briefly at the newly filled prescriptions next to the toothpaste as she returned the tube to the cabinet. Maleficent had hemmed and hawed over the bottles before going to bed last night, choosing not to take any in preference for snuggling deeply into Aurora's arms. It had been almost unbearably hot under the duvet during the night, but neither woman moved from the embrace.

More hungry than worried about her appearance today, Aurora took the quickest shower she could before coming back into the bedroom to grab her iPhone. As she turned the radio app on, happy music blared from the cell phone's speakers. She danced and spun to where her suitcase would have been on the floor, but stopped dead as her gaze saw only indentations in the carpet where it had been. Her luggage was missing.

She crouched to look under the bed, but it wasn't there. It wasn't on the cedar chest at the end of the bed, either. That left only one other place it could be: the closet.

Opening the door, she entered the cavernous space that had been built into the eave of the cottage's roof and was instantly confused. Her rollaway was there, but it was empty. Feet shuffling to spin in a circle, Aurora rubbed at her eyes once they adjusted to the dim light. Her dresses, blouses and trousers had been hung neatly on a rack; all sorted by color. Pajamas and tee shirts were stacked on top of a dresser, a partially empty drawer drawn slightly open in welcome.

Selecting a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a light sweater, Aurora bit at her lower lip as she grinned like a fool and dressed. How long had Maleficent been awake? Was the woman just that sly, or was she just a heavy sleeper? Deciding she didn't care, Aurora chuckled to herself and slipped her feet into tiny jeweled flats that looked so very out of place next to Maleficent's dichotomy of sky-high heels and Doc Martens.

Her nose perked at a new smell that wafted up the stairs, and she scrambled out of the room and down the stairs faster than a whirling dervish. She skidded to a stop in front of the kitchen island, mouth salivating. "Is that what I think it is? Did you buy coffee yesterday?" Aurora squealed in glee.

Maleficent was already impeccably dressed in a black silk crepe suit, though she'd donned an apron to cook and was still barefoot. Her hair was done up in a severe French twist, and Aurora wasn't sure which made her mouth water more: the promise of blessed coffee, or the lanky brunette who threw a smirk over her shoulder as she moved from one foot to the other in front of the stove.

After she poured a cup of the dark, magical ambrosia from a carafe on the counter, Maleficent raised an eyebrow and lifted the mug. "How do you like it?" she asked airily, probably already making guesses in her mind.

Aurora's lips quirked devilishly. "If it's the good stuff, I like it the darker the better."

Mildly surprised at the young woman's answer, Maleficent's hand had already begun to draw the mug back towards the counter. However, once she pieced together Aurora's seriousness _and _her joke, she slid the mug of coffee across the island and made a joke herself. "Only the best for my Beastie," she declared, as if in a commercial.

"None of that Folgers' crap, right? Where did you get the coffee pot?" Aurora inquired as she sniffed at the contents of the cup.

"Tsk. It's a good thing I asked a clerk what to buy, I _had_ been pondering between Folgers and Nescafe," Maleficent said in all solemnity for a few moments before breaking out into a boisterous laugh. "No no, silly. I am fairly certain for what I paid for one pound of that vile stuff that it was picked by fairies that live in the trees of the jungle and only eat nuts and berries. I keep the carafe for guests."

Sipping at the hot coffee, Aurora moaned shamelessly. It _was _good.

Her own mouth drying at the sound, Maleficent took a long swig of her cooling tea and grabbed their plates of breakfast. Deciding to stand and eat, she glided one plate across to Aurora and was immensely pleased to see the girl's blue eyes widen in delight.

"Eggs in the bekkie!" she crowed, throwing her hands aloft in triumph. "Oh, my mother used to make these for me… It's been _years_." A blush rapidly crept up Aurora's neck as she realized she probably sounded half her age at the use of her childhood nickname for the food.

Maleficent merely smiled indulgently over the edge of her teacup. "Yes, eggs in the basket. My mother made them for me as well," she reminisced, and poked at her own breakfast.

They ate in companionable silence before Maleficent came around the island to kiss Aurora's forehead, followed by her cheek and then her lips. The gentleness behind the kisses made Aurora blush once more – how in the world could she feel unsettled by the lightest pecks on her face from the woman who had done countless things to her elsewhere? It made every moment feel new.

Overcome with the flush of love, comfort, and safety, she leaned forward to whisper in Maleficent's ear, "**Nunc scio quid sit amor." **_Now I know what love is. _

Hair standing on end in delight from the breathy words in her ear, Maleficent swallowed and murmured, **"Modo itera omnia quae mihi nunc nuper narravisti, sed nunc Anglice?" **_Would you repeat everything you just told me, only this time say it in English? _She wanted to hear it from Aurora's lips over and over again.

"English! She wants me to speak in English while she carries on like sex on wheels in Latin every day?" Aurora threw her head back and spoke to the skies before giggling.

In response, Maleficent wrapped her arms around Aurora's waist to draw the young woman into a smoldering kiss. Once finished, she leaned back and licked her lips before her green eyes twinkled mischievously. **"Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur,"****[1] **she goaded.

Aurora's eyes narrowed, and she stuck her tongue out in feigned irritation. "Yes, you're still speaking Latin. I highly doubt that it's just _slipping out_, though."

"Go and fetch your testing materials before I make us _very _late," Maleficent ordered in an edgy whisper, her sight zeroing in on where Aurora's tongue had peeked through her lips moments before.

* * *

Maleficent strode purposefully from her classroom towards the Board Meeting room on the first floor, where her yearly curriculum meeting with the school administrative staff was to be held. She didn't have much time between proctoring her 10th Year students' KS4[2] Latin tests and the meeting, and her files were unusually messy.

Still, she beamed at passing colleagues and students in the halls. Some regarded her with confused expressions, others with murmurs of surprise and a respectful _'Good day, Miss Moore.'_

Maleficent Moore so rarely _smiled_. Today it seemed that her cheeks hurt with the amount of joy that fell upon her lips. The school year would soon be over, and Aurora would receive her Advanced certificate. She pondered what would they do and plan together this summer – would her little star like to take a gap year to travel and rest? Paris was beautiful during this time of the year.

Reaching her destination at last, Maleficent's musing thoughts ceased and she tugged her suit jacket down in front to collect herself. Her hand reached for the doorknob as she blew out a tiny exhalation of focus.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she encountered upon entering the boardroom. Monsignor Flaherty and Sr. Eileen stood to one side, wringing their hands and looking quite vexed. The table was completely full, with every manner of Diocese official on hand. Maleficent's practiced expression of calm wavered as the corners of her mouth began to turn down. They twitched back up so quickly; those assembled wondered if they'd seen her emote at all.

A gentleman she recognized as Mark Dooley, the School Director sat beside some Diocese lackey, looking quite pleased with himself. The chair next to him held Barry McGovern, the father of Felicity. The man's snide, pockmarked face actually smiled at her, and it made Maleficent want to punch him.

"Miss Moore, thank you for coming today. I am afraid this may not have been what you were expecting," Mr. Dooley stated with false sincerity. "I'd offer you a seat, but as you can see…"

"I'll stand," Maleficent interrupted, waving her hand nonchalantly.

It was then that she saw Joan Morrow walk in, recognizing the woman from Bridge night. A telltale green leather folio balanced precariously in the secretary's outstretched hands as she passed Maleficent with an apologetic stare.

For her own part, Maleficent did not meet the woman's gaze, pupils returning from the corners of her eyes to stare ahead once more at the people gathered.

As Joan laid the folio on the table in front of Mr. Dooley, the Director swung it open and began to write almost immediately. After a few moments of extremely uncomfortable silence, Maleficent shifted from one foot to the other.

It had been reaction Dooley was waiting for; and he finally looked up to speak. "Miss Moore, when you were retained for employment by the Diocese and school, you were asked to sign and agree to the terms within the 'Code of Ethics for the Catholic School Teacher.' You signed with full consent, and not under duress… correct?"

Maleficent bristled at the man's insulting manner, especially put off by his waiting to speak until she appeared uncomfortable. "Yes, _of course_," she replied, her tone clipped and short. It was an idiotic question meant to rile those in attendance up – she would have never been allowed to pick up a piece of chalk in her classroom if not for signing the blasted thing.

Nodding his satisfaction at her answer, Mr. Dooley flipped through some papers in the green folder. "So then, it ought to be no surprise to you that we find you in contemptible violation of Principle I, section 6 – Respect for confidential information concerning students and their home life; Principle III, section 2c – Modeling active participation in one's own parish; Principle IV, sections 1a and 2a – preserving the reputations of colleagues, administrators, and students as well as modeling the faith life and witnessing to the Faith Community on the parish, diocesan, national and world levels," he dragged on, checking off the contract as he went.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes or laugh, Maleficent decided to push the disagreeable little man on edge. "If you don't mind elaborating what I am being accused of in specific detail, Mr. Dooley?" she countered casually. "How am I to defend myself without full disclosure?"

Dooley cleared his throat and leaned forward, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "Miss Moore, I didn't wish to embarrass a woman of caliber such as yourself with this line of questioning, but you've left me no choice. Are you…?" He paused to sit back and swallow against the words he loathed to acknowledge. "Is it true that you are a… Do you deny having the unnatural inclination and tendency to seek the company of women for pleasure?"

Maleficent's eyebrow rose arrogantly at the man's beating around the bush. "That's the Sunday school version, yes. If you're asking if I am a _lesbian, _Mr. Dooley - you are indeed correct. It's not precisely a secret to the administrators of this fine institution, either."

She looked around as if what she was searching for would appear out of thin air. "I'm sure my student file is around here _somewhere. _Perhaps we could bring Mr. McGovern's daughter in to gossip about me some more; would that be the burden of proof?"

Totally uncomfortable with the woman's unabashed admittance of her sin and insolent nature, those around the table began to mutter amongst themselves. Sr. Eileen leaned against Monsignor Flaherty, looking faint. He placed an arm around the inconsolable nun who had warned him of this meeting coming. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do for his little Mallie at this point, especially after what had come out of her mouth seconds ago.

Slapping the table to call order, Mr. Dooley's face became dark and thunderous at Maleficent's disagreeable response and sarcasm. "Your admittance of your proclivities, _plus _your meddling into the affairs of Miss Aurora Rose and her father's right as a good Christian to guide her in a way he sees fit would be reason enough to dismiss you, Miss Moore. Miss McGovern's testimony was simply fact finding. You haven't attended school mass in months, and did not return to regularity after seeking your pastor's counsel. You've tarnished the good name of poor Miss Rose in this community, as well as your own," he alleged heatedly.

Still as stone to hide the fury that roiled just beneath her skin, Maleficent's response was glacial. "If you mean taking Miss Rose in to protect her from being coerced into marriage to a man that is now being held as a criminal awaiting trial, then I fully confess that too. _With pride._"

The sounds of intense scribbling were harsh against the chamber's otherwise silence. Clearly unsettled, Mark Dooley didn't look up from his furious slashing at the papers on the table as he issued the verdict. "Miss Moore, the Diocese had hoped that over time you might have outgrown your… need to sin against the flesh and the Lord's teachings. Clearly, you are not of sound Christian mind to teach our children. We rescind our offer to have you return to St. Augusta's next year, and your termination is effective immediately," he ground out.

His piercing, judgmental eyes looked up at last to glower at Maleficent. "Collect your belongings from your classroom and report promptly to reception to relinquish your employee badge. That is all."

With a curt nod, Maleficent spun on her heel to march out of the room, not affording the ridiculous situation another word.

* * *

Her heels clicking along the tiled floors in haste, she reached the classroom door in even shorter time than her reverse trip earlier. When Maleficent slung her purse over a shoulder with a huff, she _did _allow her eyes to spend a moment to gaze longingly and lovingly over the rows of desks and chairs, where countless minds had been nurtured and guided by her hand for years. She'd returned to St. Augusta's to '_be the light and change you want to see in the world' _ \- to stop the cycle of pain. Of course, that facet of Christ's teachings was ignored summarily in the revelation of how God had made her.

Now alone, a breathy sob caught in her throat as a tidal wave of emotion finally caught up with her. She wiped an errant tear from her eye and turned to the board, carefully crafting her final message to whoever cared to read it.

"Cernit omnia Deus vindex." _There is an avenging God who sees all._

"Vos estis sal terrae;"_ You are the salt of the earth_**_[3]_**

"Ego sum pastor."_ I am a good shepherd._

Once she had left the classroom to return her badge in Reception, Maleficent felt a weight she'd not known lift off of her shoulders. Feeling unburdened but still irrevocably saddened by the day's events, she walked to the car while texting Aurora to catch the bus home, or to call her for a ride. She didn't specify why except not to worry; not wanting the girl to be distracted from her exams if she received the message while on a break between tests. They were vastly important to her future in medicine, whatever portion of that path she chose.

As she settled into the squeaky leather driver's seat of the convertible, the phone rang in her hand. Heart leaping with gladness, she hit 'answer' without looking at the Caller ID, expecting Aurora to be available to talk on a break. Her **amare's** voice would surely soothe the hurts and offenses of the day. "Hello, darling one," she sighed.

"Hello, is this Miss Maleficent Moore?" an unfamiliar woman's voice queried.

Embarrassed, Maleficent replied in the affirmative. "Y-yes. I apologize, I thought you were someone else calling."

The woman laughed on the other end. "I'm sure. My name is Dr. Grace Foley, and I'm calling from the North Yorkshire Cold Case Unit, the CCU. We'd like to talk to you regarding Phillip Ulstead – would you mind popping down for a visit?"

Maleficent's gut clenched with dread. Whatever could Phillip Ulstead have to do with the CCU? "Eh… I suppose so," she responded guardedly. "I'll be there within the half hour."

The Jag roared to life.

* * *

Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd and Dr. Grace Foley entered the sterile interview room where the tall brunette was waiting for them. It was darker than normal, Dr. Foley leaving half the lights off to keep a feeling of calm flowing.

Seated on the other side of the metal table, Maleficent Moore's stoic appearance didn't fool Grace. "Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?" the forensic psychologist offered with a smile as she took a seat beside Boyd, all the while observing the woman.

Maleficent held up a hand. "I'm fine, thank you," she responded with a borderline brusqueness.

The woman was subconsciously grinding her teeth as well, the psychologist noted. '_Hardly surprising, given the fact she was the sole survivor of a family assassination,' _she thought to herself. Grace continued to watch as Maleficent shifted uncomfortably in the chair now that two pairs of eyes were on her.

With a gruff harrumph as he cleared his throat, Boyd assembled some black and white photos within the file he was viewing as Grace made pleasantries to get their guest settled.

"So, Miss Moore… How are you feeling today?" she solicited congenially. Her efforts proved futile as Maleficent Moore clasped her hands together beneath the table, muttering again that she was fine. The victim was using classic concealment gestures: an expressionless face, paired with hitching of the shoulders as she attempted to control her respiratory rate.

Carefully taking a photo from the small collection, the DSI Boyd laid it on the table before Maleficent. "Miss Moore" he began carefully, "do you recognize the man in this photo?"

Grace watched carefully for the micro expression on Maleficent's face. The green-eyed woman may have been attempting to control every emotion that coursed through her to prevent them from showing on her face, but micro expressions were involuntary. She recognized both Anger and Contempt from the woman's eyebrows drawing down and together while her lips narrowed. The lips' corners tightened to rise on only one side of her face, and the edges of her nostrils flared. It was momentary and shockingly quick even to Dr. Foley, but faces never lied.

Frowning openly now, Maleficent leaned forward to see better under the dim fluorescent lights. "Yes, I recognize him," she admitted cautiously.

Dr. Foley nodded, her affirmation meant to support the woman in what appeared to be a sore subject. "Can you tell us your relationship to him, Miss Moore?"

Maleficent hesitated. Though she bore no shame concerning her relationship with Aurora, she wasn't sure she wanted to admit the details to two complete strangers; one whom she knew was already analyzing her. "I..." she began, but her voice faltered.

Reading into the situation, Grace exchanged glances with Boyd. "Miss Moore, would you feel more comfortable talking with a female officer present in the room?" she ventured. The CCU Psychologist interpreted the woman's hostility and reluctance to speak as being directly related to an authoritarian male's presence.

Maleficent was silent for a moment. Her efforts to see the remainder of the police photos in the file DSI Boyd had in front of him proved useless; it was too dark to decipher the images to any recognizable degree. Yet, she knew this did _not_ pertain solely to the intrusion at her home by that effeminate little prick Ulstead and the Neanderthal with him.

Feeling brave after her dismissal from work earlier, she bit the bullet. "Dr. Foley," she addressed the middle aged psychologist coolly, "I don't care if a chimpanzee is present in the room, I would simply like to know why you have invited me to attend this interview and where my girlfriend's father fits into it."

Boyd jolted a bit in his seat and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Your…"

"Girlfriend's father Boyd, yes," Grace finished, saving the interview. "We weren't aware of that Miss Moore…" she tread lightly, holding her palms flat against the table in a gesture of peace.

"I can't see why you would be," Maleficent replied, eyeing Boyd with distaste. "Its my private life."

"_Of course_," Grace answered respectfully. Taking a deep breath, she met Maleficent's eyes. "Miss Moore, I'm sorry. We've asked you here today so we could inform you of a development concerning the murders of your family in 1998."

Maleficent's eyes flashed, and she visibly stopped breathing before drawing in air once more.

"M-My family?" she stuttered, clutching at the edge of the cool table. Her heart banged wildly against her ribs, and a rush of adrenaline released an overload of the fight or flight chemical messenger into her body.

* * *

The cottage driveway's gravel flew wildly as the car screeched to a stop outside, drawing Aurora's attention from the book she'd pilfered from Maleficent's collection. Her lover didn't exactly seem like the Jack Kerouac type, and she'd been correct. The inscription she'd found inside was a penciled heart around the initials L.L. and H.C.

When the front door slammed shut, Aurora winced and looked up. She'd wanted to tell Maleficent about how fantastic her exams had gone, but it appeared that she was still in a bad mood from being dismissed earlier today. Sister Eileen had found Aurora shortly after the exams ended. The nun had made her promise to _'take care of Mallie's heart tonight. She's a prickly sort, Miss Rose.'_

Maleficent stomped into the library nook, eyes wide and flashing. They zeroed in on the book in Aurora's hands. "Where did you get that?" she snapped.

"Oh, hello sunshine! I see you've found my Kerouac collection. My day sucked, so I'm going to be an asshole now," Aurora muttered playfully, trying to insert some levity into the woman's foul mood.

Snatching the book from the petite blonde's hands, Maleficent couldn't help but blink rapidly as the tiny, feminine fingers flashed back and forth to a man's hands. Gulping air rapidly, she stepped backwards and slipped the book back into its spot on the shelf, rubbing the spine tenderly with her fingertips before turning furious eyes back to Aurora.

"Did you know?" she seethed. "Was it some sort of _game _for him? Dropping the pretty, lost girl in the midst of the woman who was once the lost girl?"

Aurora stood up against the barrage of wrath, resentment for the ill treatment lining her eyes. "Did I know _what_? Listen to yourself! Calm down for a minute and ask me," she countered.

Clawed fingers flew to Maleficent's hair, and she tugged roughly at it. A tortured whine escaped her lips as her chest heaved – warring with the indecision of hurting the one she loved the most or hurting the daughter of the man suspected of killing her entire family. They were one in the same girl.

The girl who she had sought to protect above all others in the world; the owner of the dainty hands that had loved and touched her so intimately; the face that framed those adorably wide blue eyes – the same color as the murderer's eyes. A killer's blood contributed to the life force that flowed beneath the pale, soft skin that stretched taut over the sinew and bone that Maleficent had worshipped so many times.

"Did you know, Aurora?" the question fell from her trembling lips like a prayer, thinly veiled hope muddied by pain. "Did you know that your father killed my family?"

A sharp gasp came from Aurora as she shook her head vehemently, stepping away from the woman vacillating somewhere between vicious rage and complete breakdown. She didn't fear her love – but she feared the flash of accusation in her green eyes.

"No! My father is a rat bastard, Maleficent… But he's not a damned murderer!" she denied. _He couldn't be._ Stefan was a cruel, strict father, and a shrewd businessman. However mean or cold he seemed, what had been done to Maleficent and her family was on a whole new level of evil and hellacious intent. Her heart broke at the expression of disbelief that came across Maleficent's face.

"That's not what the Cold Case Unit told me they suspected today!" she shouted at Aurora, unable to keep control of her anger any longer. "Your _ex-fiancé _probably is singing like a canary! Dear God, he and that meathead were _armed _last week," Maleficent puzzled out, tears rolling down her face like a waterfall. Against the strained, sharp lines of her eyes and cheekbones, they looked strangely out of place.

Aurora reached forward to grasp at her forearm, wanting nothing more than to comfort, to wipe away the tears.

Maleficent recoiled, throwing Aurora's touch off with a jerk of her arm. "Don't touch me! Don't _touch _me!" she commanded, anguish dripping from every word. She turned towards the stairs and fled to the top before the younger woman could blink, slamming and locking the bedroom door behind her.

Her world thrown on axis, Aurora followed. At the closed bedroom door, she set her teeth and pounded against the wood with her fists. "Who's the child now, huh? You don't even know for _sure _if my father had anything to do with it and all of a sudden I am nothing to you? I'm not him, Maleficent!" she cried.

At no response from inside the bedroom besides stomping feet pacing around, she pounded the door once more with all of her strength. "Damn it, you said you loved me. You said you kept your promises… I don't have anywhere else to go!" Aurora shouted. "Let me in!"

"Go away!" Maleficent screamed back, the shadow of her feet peeking from beneath the door to meet Aurora's shadow.

Aurora wailed in frustration and wild hurt before clambering back down the stairs. Grabbing her purse, she fled into the night. The only person that had ever truly _seen _her heart now refused it, and the pain was more than her mind could take.

'_Run,' _it chanted. She ran.

* * *

[1] **Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur.** \- Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. Sometimes it just sort of slips out.

[2] KS4 testing - **Key Stage 4** is the legal term for the two years of school education, which incorporates year 10 and year 11 in schooling. It leads to a **General Certificate of Secondary Education** (**GCSE**,) the academic qualification awarded in a specified subject.

[3] **"You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor?" Matthew 5:13** \- Believers in Christ preserve the Earth from the evil inherent in the society of ungodly men corrupted by the world. The loss of saltiness occurs in the failure of the Christian to take up the cross and follow Christ wholeheartedly. In other words: Maleficent is accusing those who judge her of not following all the tenets of their belief system, as they have accused of her.


	12. Utrimque (Both Sides, Now)

**A/N: Hello, readers! T****hank you all for your lovely PMs and reviews regarding this story – it really helps to talk a story out with readers as it's in progress, even if I can't reveal too much.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Effigy," Natalie Merchant (Maleficent in town)**

**"I'm In Here," Sia (Elsa &amp; Ava)**

**"Little Bird," Imogen Heap (Aurora's discovery)**

**"The Beast," Imogen Heap (The hostel room)**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Utrimque (Both Sides, Now)**

* * *

"Have you seen this girl?" Maleficent asked a passing couple on the sidewalk, her voice strained and desperate. She was intensely disheartened when they merely shook their head and walked away without really looking at the picture of Aurora.

It was he only picture of Aurora she had, sent from her iPhone to email two days ago. She'd printed it out and traced every curve and edge of the young woman's face while weeping bitter tears. Numerous calls to Aurora's phone begging her to call back had gone unanswered on Sunday, with texts garnering the same result. Yesterday morning, the phone company's monotone recording had told Maleficent that the number had been disconnected, and was no longer in service.

Most of the townsfolk gave the woman oddly dressed in a khaki trenchcoat with the collar popped and a black cloche hat in July a wide berth. However chilly the morning was, Maleficent was dressed as if hiding in plain sight. There had been murmurs around Middlesbrough for weeks now from the popular McGovern family about Miss Moore, and her recent dismissal from St. Augusta's only solidified the gossip into truth in their minds.

She'd always been considered a loner, keeping to herself at her cottage in Tollesby. They'd heard she'd walked the entirety of Acklam, Berwick Hills, Coulby Newham, as well as the metropolitan center yesterday looking for Aurora Rose. Today she walked the sidewalks of Brambles Farm, the part of Middlesbrough where St. Augusta's stood as a beacon. Miss Maleficent Moore was nothing if not brazen, and the citizens that did approach her out of curiosity admired her tenacity.

As Joan Morrow bustled down the street with her young daughter on one hip and her son toddling on one side, Maleficent saw an opportunity. "Joan! Joan, wait!" she called after the harried redhead.

She ran across the street, dodging slow, honking cars to pull up just in front of Ms. Morrow. The woman looked like she'd seen a ghost, and took two steps back. "M-Miss Moore! Are you quite alright?" she trilled, clutching the baby girl closer unconsciously.

_'__Easy now,' _Maleficent thought to herself. _'Don't act like a nutter.' _

"Of _course_, Joan…" she responded half heartedly, running a finger behind her ear to tuck some escaped hair back into a low bun. "I was just wondering – Aurora's been away for a few days now, and I can't seem to find her anywhere. Have you seen her?" Maleficent inquired, holding up the creased paper to remind Joan of what the blonde looked like.

Ms. Morrow's wide-eyed glare that followed the question had Maleficent's confidence deflating almost immediately. She didn't let it show on the outside, instead raising her chin in defiance and meeting the shorter woman's disapproving gaze head on. How quickly a simple hello could degrade into a staring match when you addressed the elephant in the room.

"Perhaps she's gone back home to London, as she ought to have. She's a _good girl."_ Joan intoned coldly as she stepped to one side. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" she began to walk away briskly.

Maleficent scowled at the retreating figure, gritting her teeth and fisting her hands. As she watched Joan Morrow scurry down the sidewalk, her frustration with the past two days burst forth. "I wish I could, Joan… But I can't. Because there is no excuse for you!" she yelled, causing the Tuesday morning walking commuters to stare in astonishment.

Her pulse and composure eventually returning to normal, Maleficent folded the picture of Aurora back up and slid it delicately into the inner pocket of her light trench. However rude Joan had been, she had to admit the hypocritical woman might be correct.

After crossing the street once more, she slid into the seat of her blue Jaguar and started it. Maleficent dialed Information, asking to be connected to the Middlesbrough Railway Station while crossing her fingers that the next train wouldn't be too long off.

* * *

At the CCU, several case experts were hard at work and none the wiser to the recent developments. Rather, this morning they focused on past events, carefully piecing together evidence to get them all on the same page. The last team that had worked on the LaFey/Christopoulos murders had long since moved on or retired.

The current unit pathologist, Dr. Eve Lockhart stood by a whiteboard containing several photos. "I was just going through the LaFey murder scene," the serious brunette woman explained, as Detective Superintendent Boyd stood where he was.

"This was Hermia Christopoulos," she murmured, lifting her hand to a photo of a woman with evident stab wounds. "She was attacked in her sleep."

"Thank God for small mercies," Dr. Grace Foley muttered, eyes fixed on the grisly picture.

"_Not quite,_" the pathologist contradicted her. "According to friends of the family who were interviewed, Hermia was a very light sleeper."

"_Christ_, tell me she didn't wake up during the attack?" Boyd questioned, his typically gruff tone dismayed.

"Unfortunately, she did," Lockhart confirmed. "From the presence and location of Hermia's blood, plus her daughter Lilith's statement, Hermia sustained several stab wounds, " the pathologist revealed curtly. "None were serious enough to have killed her straightaway." Her hand gestured across three photos of the couple's bedroom underneath.

Dr. Lockhart reached for Boyd's right arm, holding it in front of him in a defensive position. "Hermia instinctively raised her right arm to deflect the attack. Her attacker then stabbed wildly, inflicting four additional stab wounds, one of which punctured her axillary artery."

Bringing her attention back to the whiteboard, Lockhart tapped the first photo in a line of three. "The trail of blood from the bed followed to across the landing," she droned. An uncomfortable chill settled upon the team.

Pointing to the second photo that showed bloody fingerprints on the handle of a door, Lockhart cleared her throat. "Hermia, badly injured and losing a substantial amount of blood at this point managed to walk across the landing to her daughter Lilith's room. Her attacker followed to deliver the final slash to her neck not long after."

As the pathologist moved onto the third photo, she noticed Detective Constable Stella Goodman had tears in her eyes. Stella was always the emotional sort, but it was sometimes a good characteristic to have in the CCU – allowing a constable to never give up on justice.

Maintaining her professionalism, Lockhart focused back on the third photo. A 14-year-old Maleficent stared at the camera, her green eyes empty.

DC Goodman's lip quivered once as Lockhart stuck another, more detailed photo on the board next to the close up. Heavy bruising could be seen on the girl's chest, wrists and ankles. "Lilith Maleficent La Fey, ladies and gentlemen," she announced. "Remember this name."

Boyd stared, his mouth in a grim line. He'd have known that woman's eyes anywhere, even without the spark of life. He continued to look into those eyes; it felt wrong to stare anywhere else on the photo.

The pathologist began listing the damage. "Her injuries include but were not limited to: a broken right wrist, two fractured posterior ribs, a bruised sternum, and a thoracic burst fracture on vertebrae T12."

Boyd looked away, his expression horrified. "Who in Christ's name does that to a 14 year old?!" he exclaimed, stunned beyond belief that Maleficent still walked the Earth.

"The bruising to her sternum and the thoracic fracture were likely caused when they threw her or held her down," Dr. Lockhart reminded the team gently. "An interview done directly afterwards revealed that she fought back viciously, but subsequent interviews gave us nothing more to go on."

At the mention of more than one interview, DS Peter Boyd sat up and turned to the back of his file. Sliding his glasses on and clearing his throat, he began to scan the page. "Buh-buh-buh, ahh, here we go: a transcript of interview three-dated November 15th, of '98. Detective yammers on for a good while about the crime scene, Lilith becomes more withdrawn. _What an idiot,_" he bit back a curse for the prior DS on the case. "He asks, 'Did you see the men who attacked you?' and she responds, 'I don't know.' Then the line of questioning goes into specifics… 'Did you see his eyes? How about his hair?' She always answers 'I don't remember,' or 'I don't know.'"

The team was silent for a moment, digesting the awful information. "They violated her," Grace realized with a whisper. Meanwhile, Stella Goodman got up and left the room, tears running down her cheeks.

Rising quickly, Dr. Foley followed the constable. "I'll see if she's all right," the forensic psychologist announced to the assembled group as she exited.

"Well, _that was heavy_," a Detective Inspector named Spencer Jordan acknowledged. His dark brown eyes were dry, and his demeanor blasé. He'd long grown used to these cases, but the department kept him on for his concentrated drive and focus during investigation.

DS Boyd shifted in his chair and glared at DI Jordan before looking back at the whiteboard. The woman's cool behavior from the previous interview made sense to him now. "No wonder she changed her name," he alleged quietly. "It's probably the only thing that stopped her from going stark raving mad."

In the ladies' room, Grace stood by the door as DC Goodman ran a damp tissue over her tear-streaked face. "Some cases hit us harder than others," Dr. Foley tried to comfort the upset policewoman.

Holding onto the edge of the sink, DC Goodman shook her head. "That poor girl," she repeated to herself over and over for a few minutes.

Dr. Foley waited, knowing that every person had their way of dealing with such gruesome circumstances. When Stella had composed herself, she returned with the CCU Psychologist and sat back down at the table in the briefing room.

Boyd picked up the conversation again. "Okay, so we have the break in at the house. Mother and Father are killed. Maleficent, birth name Lilith is assaulted, but lives. What happened to her then?"

"That we _don't_ know, precisely," Grace chimed in. "We've subpoenaed the records from the Department for Children, Schools and Families, but you know how long the bureaucratic red tape can take to unravel. Is it possible she went abroad to change her identity in 2004? That still leaves a number of years empty."

Boyd turned to DI Spencer Jordan once more. "Go and find out what happened to Lilith LaFey after the murders _without_ filing another subpoena, would you?"

Spencer nodded and left, happy to have something to focus on other than the images on the whiteboard.

Brushing past his retreating figure, Boyd pointed to a photo of a cold, expressionless man on the upper right hand side of the whiteboard. "Stefan Rose," he identified, taking a marker from Lockhart and drawing a black line from the photo to an earlier photo of Lysander La Fey and Hermia Christopoulos.

"We've discovered Stefan fell out of favour with Lysander and Hermia due to their moral objections on his trading of conflict diamonds. They _used_ to rub shoulders," Boyd continued, shrugging a bit as if something didn't quite add up. The link was there, but the murders had been quite personal in nature.

"He was present at Lilith's birthday party, days before the murder – a guest of his parents, whom were friends with Paul Christopoulos and Evelyn Moore, Lilith's grandparents. It was one big happy rich shindig, but he wasn't on the formal guest list. That might be how he fell through the cracks of the initial investigation. We have evidence that he was there, though," he rambled, trying to puzzle it out.

Grace frowned, her expression troubled. "Do we know how long Maleficent Moore, aka Lilith LaFey, has been involved with his daughter?"

Detective Constable Goodman spoke up, tapping a pencil thoughtfully. "Spencer and I spoke to Miss Moore's colleagues at St. Augusta's. We can't be certain as the Diocese wouldn't let us interview the staff…"

"Get to the point, Stella," Boyd muttered wearily.

Giving Boyd a look of reproach, the Detective resumed what she'd been saying. "They wouldn't let us speak to any of Miss Moore's colleagues, but some of the remaining students spoke to us discreetly. They allege that Miss Moore took Aurora Rose into her bed following a party."

"_Took her to bed_ following a party?" Boyd repeated, flabbergasted. "What kind of bloody school is it?!"

Smiling slightly, Dr. Lockhart joked a bit at Boyd's expense. "It's an all-girls' Catholic boarding school, Peter. Repressed sexuality and short, plaid skirts," she chuckled wryly, and excused herself back to the lab.

"So," Grace took over the conversation. "We have this seduction taking place near the end of term…"

DC Goodman waved her hand to indicate that she wasn't finished, and interrupted Grace. "The girls at the school claim that Aurora Rose only came back to the school for her exams, living with her teacher Miss Moore in the meantime. That wasn't all, though. Rumour has it that Miss Rose was involved with _another_ teacher, as well."

Shaking his head, Boyd listened but said nothing. His ego was still smarting from Dr. Lockhart's witticism.

"Do we have a name?" Grace inquired, her mind working to create a deeper profile of Maleficent Moore's newest actions, and for Aurora Rose. She would need to meet with the young woman soon.

Stella Goodman checked her notes before speaking. "Miss Elsa Arandelle, Physical Education and Physical/Anatomical Sciences teacher," she replied.

"Being seduced by her teacher, having it off with another teacher, and hooking up with the first one…" Boyd finally spoke his mind, muttering out loud. "_Christ_."

* * *

Across town in the neighborhood of West Lane, Ava shifted slightly in Elsa's arms as they watched Absolutely Fabulous on DVD. They'd returned just the day before from Oslo, jetlagged beyond belief. The deep leather couch in Ava's apartment had looked like the perfect nest, and so they'd set up camp.

Elsa smiled softly as Ava laughed so hard she shook underneath her embrace. Edina's antics onscreen always got a rise out of the medic, who so often was stressed from her work at the West Lane Hospital and the ambulance corps.

Icy-blue eyes fell upon the delicate diamond solitaire ring on her fiancée's left hand, which was resting on Elsa's knee. "I love you," she murmured, kissing at the shell of Ava's ear.

Wriggling around until she was facing Elsa, the dark haired woman leaned forward and studied her expression closely.

"What?" Elsa laughed, feeling a bit like a zoo exhibit.

Without a word, Ava straddled her fiancée and began kissing her slowly while placing her hands on the sofa arm behind them for support. Elsa cupped her rear, gripping it with strong hands and eliciting intermittent moans from their kissing mouths.

Elsa felt her underwear become positively soaked as Ava began grinding in her lap, her expression hungry. As she sank back into the couch a bit, she grabbed Ava's hand and held it to the outside of her jeans. Their already heady mood ramped up considerably as Ava's face flushed with lust at the action. While capturing Ava's mouth into another passionate kiss, she could feel her lover's hands unzipping the fly of her pants.

"Look what you do to me," Elsa panted as she took Ava's hand and put it down the front of the undone garment, pressing their fingers firmly against her arousal. The medic looked as though she would simply combust at the slickness her fingers found.

Sliding her hand back up, Elsa cupped her love's face in both hands. "Jeg er_ din_ kvinne,"[1] she purred.

Their necking was interrupted by the jarring sound of a phone ringing.

"Oh, _fuck off_! Really?!" Ava swore, glaring in the direction of the noise.

Craning over the edge of the sofa, Elsa spotted "Mallie" flashing on the caller ID.

Ava saw it too, wiggling to look over her woman's shoulder. She sighed intolerantly as Elsa reached for the phone and answered it without a second thought.

Their potential lovemaking derailed indefinitely, Ava rose from Elsa's lap to sit with legs tucked up underneath her at the far end of the sofa. An ever-widening scowl replaced the bliss on her features as she watched anxiety flicker on Elsa's beautiful face.

"_What do you mean_, you can't find her?" Elsa questioned harshly before backpedaling at the angry, biting tone that responded from the iPhone's receiver. "Okay, _okay. _I know, I'm sorry. Would you just calm down for a minute! A train will be along in what, an hour?"

_'What drama is it this time?'_ Ava contemplated while rolling her eyes. Three nights ago while they were still in Oslo, it had been Aurora running away. Maleficent had called then as well, beyond distraught and howling down the phone to Elsa in her hour of need. Here she was again, interrupting their evening.

Ava knew that she was insecure about Maleficent Moore's hold on Elsa: their intimacy, their friendship. When she'd first met the two at a bar a year and a half ago, both Mallie and Elsa had been three sheets to the wind, but they still finished each other's sentences. It had taken Ava months to convince Elsa into a relationship, but it was a welcome Christmas present when it came.

After a fifteen minute phone call with her emotional friend, Elsa tapped her finger on End Call and slid to sit on the edge of the sofa. Reaching for Ava, she was surprised when the other woman remained motionless. "What's wrong?" she asked cautiously, her eyes puzzled.

Ava laughed to herself before rising off the end of the sofa. "I'm tired of Maleficent's shit," she relayed frostily, trying to mask the hurt in her voice.

Bristling at the argument she sensed coming, Elsa stood as well. "She's my friend, Ava. She has a lot of stuff going on right now…" she began to protest.

"She_ always _has stuff going on_,"_ Ava snapped irritably.

_"Aurora has run away,"_ Elsa argued hotly. "Mallie is worried sick. A girl Aurora's age is vulnerable out there alone!"

"Then _maybe_ she shouldn't be sleeping with a teenager! There, no worries!" came the fiery retort.

Elsa stalked towards the passionate, jealous woman. "What's this really about, Ava?" she asked irately, tired of dancing around the truth. "I know you're not one of those judging assholes, spreading their gossip around town like it's the hottest news." It had been all their ears had heard from the moment they walked from the airport. People were simply horrible creatures to begin with, let alone in this backwards town.

"You and... _Her,_" Ava finally gave her resentment life. "She has always come first in your life. It has never been me," she spoke sharply, the pain of her assumption evident.

Holding her hands up in peace, Elsa tried to interject some understanding. "It may seem that way, since she was here _before_ you. I care about her…" she explained carefully.

"Well, why don't you go fuck _her_ then," Ava shouted, brimming with fury. She stumbled backwards as Elsa's palm rose, meaning to strike her. The woman's pale blue eyes were wounded and hardened with the offense of the suggestion.

_'Oh no, you don't,' _Ava thought as she danced backwards, her own eyes blazing in distrust.

In agony, Elsa clawed at her hair. "Ava, I'm sorry! Please... I'd never have _done it," _she promised, knowing the truth in her heart.

Ava paced just beneath the stairwell. "Just _look_ how defensive you get when we talk about her!" she projected, her eyes swimming with tears. "I say the wrong thing, and you try to hit me!"

Slipping the diamond ring off her finger, Ava dropped it where she stood and trembled. "I _refuse_ to be second best to that woman. I'm not marrying you," she sputtered before jogging up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Elsa massaged her temples for a few moments as she stared forlornly at the ring still on the carpet. She knew that Ava had trust issues due to an unenviable upbringing, and the constant air of secrecy around Mallie often set those who didn't know her on edge. _'Perhaps I could have let her in on a bit more… What harm could it have done?' _Elsa reflected as she heard a door slam. Her heart warred between loyalty to Mallie and the love she held for the woman upstairs.

She sighed, knowing what had to be done. Climbing the stairs, Elsa didn't bother with the formality of knocking. Ava was standing at the window with her back to the door. Her arms were crossed in a clear message.

"Hear me out, please?" Elsa requested. Taking the fact the Englishwoman hadn't thrown her out the window as consent, she took a deep breath and began to explain. "Remember how I told you that Mallie's an orphan; about how her parents and grandparents are dead? _They were murdered, _Ava…"

Gingerly crossing the threshold to stand a ways into the room, she continued. "I am totally breaking Mallie's confidences here, do you understand? You mean more to me… The thought of losing you is unbearable. The police have told her they're reopening the case, and then Aurora up and runs away."

"If it were me, and I was all alone, and you'd just _run away_… Do you understand now?" Elsa asked, walking forward to slip her arms around Ava's waist from behind.

Turning into the embrace, a weeping Ava looked into Elsa's concerned eyes and sniffed. "I understand that you are a loyal friend, and now I feel like an utter ass," she muttered through her tears.

Elsa ran her fingertips over the gentle curve of Ava's cheeks before kissing her. "Then please, don't forsake me; marry me."

Her request caused a fresh stream of tears from Ava's stormy, sea foam blue eyes. She simply clung to Elsa and sobbed.

* * *

Manicured fingers spun the safe's lock as their owner had seen her father do so many times.

Stefan had always forbade Aurora from ever opening his private safe at their home, but it wasn't as if he was here to object. She'd needed money, especially after a clerk at the bank notified Aurora that her AmEx no longer had funds available. The bastard had shut it off from wherever he was in Scotland, and today her phone had reported no service. Now it was Friday, and she was destitute… and desperate.

A combination of numbers she'd never thought much on now made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise. The dial spun - 10… click, click, click. 5… click, click, click. 98… click, click, click. Her trembling hand pulled on the lever, and the lock gave way with an eerie thunk. Aurora wanted to vomit, her stomach churning with the glaring truth that the digits told.

Swinging the safe door open, she was relieved to see rather innocuous stacks of money lining the front. Only taking the piles of bills in smaller denominations to avoid suspicion, the money quickly went into her knapsack at the base of the wall.

At the back of the safe was a dark pocketed folder. It winked Aurora in the face - daring her to take it out and read all of the secrets she'd denied and pushed to the back of her mind for a week.

Her heart pounded with trepidation as she snatched the leatherette file and closed the safe's door, spinning the dial roughly.

The living room where she'd spent so many summer days looked cavernous and cold now, like the belly of a beast. Sitting gingerly on the edge of a sofa, she felt ill. Staying in this place for even a moment longer was beginning to be a battle of will.

_'Deep breaths, Aurora… Deep breaths,' _she coached herself as her fingertips skimmed the edges of the file. Closing her eyes, she flipped it open. Quick exhalations puffed from her lips as she sat shivering, the open file burning in her hands.

The front door's handle jiggled as the lock was undone. Startled, Aurora scrambled off the couch and stuffed the file into her knapsack. Just as she was about to open the back door to escape into the manicured gardens, a man's voice called her name.

"Aurora! What are you doing here?" Mr. Carey, her father's barrister questioned, sounding just as surprised to see her and she felt upon seeing him.

Breathing rapidly to calm her galloping heart, Aurora turned to face him. "I was just… getting some clothes, Mr. Carey," she lied smoothly. She knelt down to sling the knapsack over her shoulder and motioned to a small duffel she had indeed filled with clothing. Her eyes creased in confusion as she took in the man's nervous demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

Pausing to wipe his brow with a kerchief, Mr. Carey looked down the hallway towards her father's office. "Your father left something for me, in regards to a legal matter. I've come to fetch it. Is Miss Moore in London with you?" he questioned lightly, moving towards the hall.

The purloined file labeled _'Lilith LaFey' _seemed to become ten pounds heavier in Aurora's knapsack. "Um, no…" she began, worried and somewhat disturbed that Mr. Carey knew of their relationship.

"Oh, thank God," Mr. Carey mumbled, his uneasiness coming down a bit. "You've left her then? It would be wise, Aurora," he recommended, his professional tone returning. It was a thinly veiled directive if Aurora ever heard one. "She's a dangerous woman," he posited.

_'Give them what they want,' _Aurora thought, her only wish to leave this sinister house as soon as she could. "Of course, Mr. Carey. Once I realized how… dangerous she was, I left straightaway," she nodded as she wove her tale. "Now, if you'll excuse my rush, I need to meet a friend for dinner."

The barrister's keen eyes focused in on her, trying to decipher truth from lies. "Dinner, where?" he inquired.

Aurora's mind raced. "The Earlsfield Deli on Garratt," she rambled, moving towards the door. "Really, I must be off."

With a suspicious gleam to his eye, Mr. Carey nodded once.

She didn't waste any time, walking swiftly through the door and down the pathway. Once she'd reached the sidewalk, Aurora took off like a shot. Around the corner she flew, her calves burning from running in platform sandals with the weight of the bags she carried.

Minutes later, she waited the next city block over for a bus. "Come on, come on… Come on!" the shaking young woman groused loudly at the lumbering double decker coming down the street. Her fellow travellers stared in mild curiosity.

The bus finally came to a halt, and she quickly entered her pass for fare. Sitting as far back as she could, Aurora let out a huge sigh of relief as the transit's door closed and it began to inch forward.

A hand slapped at the window near her shoulder, causing Aurora to screech.

Edward Carey stood beneath it, his eyes manic and face red from the exertion of running after her. He'd subpoenaed the case's medical and forensic records from the court, and tucked it into what Stefan's lackey Ulstead had researched. The picture it painted was so horrific; Edward had refused to keep it in his own office. He knew from his work with other cases how victims could block traumatic memories, and it seemed the LaFey girl had done the same past being snatched from under the bed.

He was depending on it for Stefan's defense.

"Aurora! Aurora Rose, don't do this!" he begged. "Don't give her that file!"

As the red bus pulled away, the balding man heaved a final scream after it. "_She doesn't remember everything! Leave that poor woman in peace, Aurora Rose!"_

* * *

Four transfers, two hours and a lot of crying later, Aurora emerged from the double decker bus hungry, frightened, and completely on edge. Her hostel on the edge of King's Cross was across the street, and offered the sweet promise of anonymity and sleep.

She dragged her feet as she entered the swinging doors, dropping her duffel to the crook of her elbow but keeping a firm grip on her knapsack. The front desk awaited her – the hosteliers needed payment for her last two nights. If she didn't ante up soon, they'd call the police on her for sure.

As she approached them, they looked far from angry. Rather, a pleasant smile crossed the lips of the thirty-something year old blonde receptionist named Sunny. "Miss Rose! How lovely to see you back so soon. May I have your key?" she asked, holding a hand out over the counter.

"My key?" Aurora retorted in shock, tears welling at the corner of her eyes. "I can pay! Please, don't…"

Sunny shook her head rapidly. "Oh, no! No, dear. You've been upgraded to a private room! Your _friend_ is waiting upstairs for you. I hope you don't mind we got her settled in without you, she was rather insistent," the receptionist chuckled while waggling her eyebrows. "Weren't you expecting her?"

"Yes," she breathed out her response, the tenseness in her shoulders releasing at once. "Of course, Sunny. Thanks so much," Aurora murmured, handing over her key for a new one.

Turning from the desk without another word, she ignored Sunny's call to have a good evening and climbed the three floors to the private rooms. Truth be told, Aurora had been hoping that Maleficent would find her.

As the train had pulled away from Middlesbrough Station in the middle of the night on Saturday, she had wanted instantly to get back off. She'd spent the last of her money paying for the ticket to London, though – needing answers overwhelming her desire to run back. Twenty pounds had already gone into the pocket of a man named Mr. Diaval Morrow, who had allowed her to hitch to the station in his black sedan as he drove down the causeway near Maleficent's cottage.

Now, she had her answers. Could she put the shattered pieces of their love back together?

Aurora slid the key into the lock for Room 72, and pushed the door open gently. It was a tiny room, the queen bed dwarfing most of the immediate space. The sight that met her eyes melted whatever fear had gripped her heart only five days ago.

Maleficent lay back on the bed, her arm thrown over her eyes as she'd done on the sofa the day after the break in. Mahogany hair splayed around her head like a halo. Soft snores came from between her lush lips, and her long, bare toes twitched as if she were dreaming.

As Aurora set the bags down and closed the door behind her, Maleficent jerked but did not wake. Her arm dragged down off of her eyes in a lazy motion to fall beside her. Dark circles marred the delicate skin beneath her eyelashes, and Aurora frowned at the knowledge that they were probably her fault.

Heeding Elsa's advice not to wake Maleficent abruptly and recalling how frightened she'd been when it had happened before, Aurora slid gently into the bed well away from her love. The weight of her dipping the mattress was enough to give her away however, and Maleficent's green eyes popped open – bloodshot, wild, and just as beautiful as ever.

Staying very still, Aurora smiled. "Don't be afraid," she whispered.

The green eyes gentled gradually as their owner's body relaxed from high alert. Stubborn and dignified as usual, Maleficent responded, "I am not afraid."

Aurora grimaced at the obvious lie, her hands itching to touch and hold the woman beside her. She wouldn't until she was given specific permission, remembering one of Maleficent's last commands to her. _'Don't touch me,' _she had screamed.

Her blue eyes tried to convey understanding as an instinctual question fell from her lips. "How did you find me?"

"I'll always find you," Maleficent asserted, her voice coarse with sleep. Her shaky hands came up slowly to cup Aurora's face, tenderly soothing the skin under the pads of her fingertips. "You're my little star. I'd perish without your light. I'm only sorry that I didn't realize that before I scared you away."

"I'm not scared of you," Aurora scoffed.

"But you were," Maleficent disagreed, her lips drawing down into a gloomy pout.

Inching forward on the bed, Aurora began to close the space between them. "No, I was scared of the truth. But please understand me – I never, ever knew. It doesn't change anything about how I feel for you. You're my safety. I know how crazy and unhinged you must have felt, learning that I was no longer yours. Even if… Even if it wasn't my fault. _That _scared me, too."

Her eyes wandering Aurora's form to the young woman's clenching and unclenching hands that were tucked in front of her chest, Maleficent sighed deeply. "Touch me, Aurora. I won't bite," she chided. "I wasn't in my right mind that day."

Lightness came to Aurora's face as her hands relaxed. "_Promise_ you won't bite?" she joked.

"I didn't search eighty-one bloody hostels in the London area looking for you so that I could come here and _bite you," _Maleficent laughed. "Come here," she demanded smoothly, opening her arms to the young woman and thinking perhaps Aurora would be more comfortable with that action rather than being put on the spot.

Indeed she was. Aurora folded herself within Maleficent's embrace with a relieved sigh to snuggle her cheek on the woman's chest. The thrum of a heartbeat thudded underneath her ear, and Aurora fell asleep to the sound of the telltale heart, vowing to protect with her life what her father had sought to destroy as she entered the world of dreams.

* * *

[1] Jeg er _din_ kvinne – (Norweigan) I'm _your_ woman.


	13. Ad Partes Dolontes (To the Pain)

**A/N: Get ready for some action, lovelies. As usual, this chapter is not for the faint hearted. A lot of feels, ahoy!**

**Chapter Soundtrack: **  
**"Die Another Day," Madonna (Maleficent strolls, The Chase)**  
**"Give Into Me," Three Days Grace (Elsa &amp; Ava)**  
**"She's Not There," The Zombies (Maleficent &amp; Elsa)**  
**"New Born," Muse (Maleficent &amp; Aurora)**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Ad Partes Dolontes (To The Pain) **

* * *

With measured steps, Maleficent walked the sidewalk of Kingsland Road in Shoreditch, London. She'd left Aurora in their hostel room this morning rather begrudgingly, but the young woman simply refused to wake – whether from stress, exhaustion, or a combination of both she did not know. Truth be told, her own mind was still foggy, even after sleeping close to ten hours in the comfort of silky smooth arms and tangled legs.

Her nearly dead iPhone had pinged woefully from the nightstand, and the call for strong tea was greater than the residual ache in her bones from several adrenaline rushes in the past week. Wearing clothes more than once in a few days was something Maleficent was loath to do, but she'd not stopped to pack on her way to London. It reminded her of the years when all she had was a few changes of clothes – so very different from the life of an overindulged teenage heiress. While the experience could be categorized as character building in her mind, it still did not rate anything close to pleasant.

First on her list of stops was a boutique for more underwear. That was followed hastily by an Apple store nearby for a phone charger. It was then that her stomach made itself known quite rudely, growling and carrying on in such a manner that the clerk behind the counter had smiled smugly and made a comment about how attractive women should eat more. Bloody prat.

As she walked it began to rain, as the weather was wont to do every single damned day in London. Maleficent huddled beneath a shop's awning to roll her long hair into a twist, and shoved two bobby pins from her pocket into the messy concoction; deciding that it would have to do for now. Her mood darkening like the clouds rolling in off the Channel, she unfurled her felt cloche from the other pocket and stuffed it over her bumpy hair. She tried in vain to ignore the burning desire to look upon the file in her attaché, having filched it from Aurora's knapsack while looking for a brush this morning. Instead, she'd found wads of cash and…No. Answers would come later.

Maleficent required tea, and soon. It was part of a strict routine she'd always followed once escaping from under the thumb of the DCSF, and it kept her both calm and focused. Wake – Dress – Tea – Work; rinse, repeat. Walking gave her time to think, ponder, and worry. Nothing about the past month had been routine, and while at first it had been exciting and lovely to have Aurora as something more than a student or occasional fantasy, it had thrown her entire life full of carefully crafted secrets into the air like a gleeful scramble for the cracker box at Christmas. Still, she'd do it over again and again the same way. Nothing would tear Aurora from her grasp – not her past, not nosey townsfolk, and certainly not Stefan Rose.

So engrossed in her thoughts, Maleficent did not notice the black Land Rover slowly creeping around the corners of the streets as she strolled them.

Enticed by the smells of proper tea preparation wafting from a café, she entered and placed her order, adding on four chocolate orange crumpets that made her hunger known fiercely at the sight of them. Hopefully, Aurora would appreciate them as well; if the rumbles from the tiny woman's own stomach during the night were any clue. Once Maleficent had received her tea and bag full of cakes, she stepped back onto the street.

This time, the starting of an engine perked her ears.

Her pale peridot eyes slid sideways as she carried on down the sidewalk, not breaking stride. An SUV pulled out from a parking spot alongside the street to trail behind her a good thirty yards for a few city blocks – just enough to appear innocuous. Maleficent paused, faking a sip of her too-hot tea in an attempt to look unruffled as her face fell into serene acceptance. The black Land Rover paused as well, pulling off the road to park again.

A man exited the driver's door onto the sidewalk. Calling him a man in her mind was mild – her heart screamed that the burly, hulking meathead was dodgy at best, and lethal at worst. Straightening his suit jacket, the man's cruel, callous brown eyes roamed her body. Shining white teeth leered as he spoke. "Morning, Lil'. Long time, no see."

Not waiting for another word, Maleficent took off like a shot; her black heels pounding the concrete and bags flapping in the wind. The beating of the spiky shoes against the pavement sent shots of pain up her ankles and into her calves, but she didn't slow her pace. Gritting her teeth, she looked behind her to see the nefarious bloke gaining on her.

Her mind raced to figure out a way to stop him up, and zeroed in on the burning sensation in her palm. Stopping dead, Maleficent turned towards the man racing towards her and popped open the lid, tossing the scalding tea at his face.

"Agh, you fookin' slag!" he howled, wiping at his eyes before launching at her once more.

Dodging the advance, Maleficent ran down an alleyway to their right, her eyes lighting up with joy at a wooden mop handle leaning against a trash bin. She picked it up and hid behind the large metal cube.

When the henchman came barreling down the alley, she swung the stick with all of her might downwards onto his head. The crack of splintering wood meeting skull sent a shiver of thrill down her arms, and she barely contained the whoop of glee that burbled in her throat as he dropped like a ton of bricks.

Still, his brown eyes looked up at her with vitriol through the blood coursing from the head wound she'd caused, and he spat weakly in her direction. The action stoked a fire in her heart as she danced around his prostrate form.

Winding her leg back, Maleficent kicked at his abdomen and groin over and over. Livid, snarling noises escaped her clenched teeth as she did so. "Don't…" Kick. "You…" Kick. "Ever…" Kick. "_Ever_…" Kick. "Come after me…" Kick. "_Again_."

Thoroughly certain that the brawny man was now reduced to crawling after her, Maleficent picked up the broomstick and felled it upon his back, and then upon his chest. Once all the tearful sack of shit could do was breathe and whimper, she picked up her bags and darted out of the alleyway.

* * *

Night fell foggily in West End, Middlesbrough as the rain began to roll in. Elsa kissed Ava's wet neck from behind as the two women relaxed in a steaming hot bath together. Turning her lover's face to the side towards her own, the blonde kissed the beauty with a softness and intimacy that told Ava all she needed to know. Holding Ava's face with one hand, Elsa's other palm moved down her fiancée's soapy skin, stroking her lightly.

Ava broke the kiss to breathe, as a slender hand lingered on her abdomen. The most dominant of the couple, Elsa still trembled as she felt her woman push back hard against her own aroused form. Snaking her hand across to grasp Ava's inner thigh, the older woman moaned at the whimper that met her actions. Holding her writhing dark haired angel around the waist, Elsa pulled Ava's curvy form against her own body, her taut stomach against a firm back.

Kneading Ava's breasts, she wildly alternated between kissing and sucking the moaning woman's shoulder and neck. Elsa moved Ava around to face her, and got onto her knees. "Lie against the bath," she ordered, a wild look in her eyes.

Ava's eyes glazed over with desire. Lifting herself backwards, she placed a long arm on each side of the bath, while biting her bottom lip in anticipation. Watching Elsa slide forward in the water, she separated her knees instinctively, allowing the beautifully lithe body to crawl between them. She reached up, pulling her into a deep kiss as Elsa's hips met hers, bringing a delicious pressure against her sex.

"Min kjærlighet,"[1] Elsa whispered into her lover's ear, as she held onto the edge of the bath to steady herself. Ava cried out, holding onto her shoulders with two hands, curling into her body to grind their hips together in a circular motion.

As Ava clung to her love, she kissed the lean, muscular shoulders that shook. Taking one hand away from the edge of the bath as they both drew near, Elsa firmly grasped her ponytail, and pulled her into a blistering kiss. In a sudden display of power, she felt herself lifted against the bathroom wall as her one and only continued to fuck her.

"I love you," Elsa panted, her tone imploring as Ava began to shake in her strong arms.

"Elsaaa!" the brunette wailed, clutching at thin air. As she rode the waves of her climax, Elsa reached down once more to push two fingers swiftly inside her. The effect was explosive, Elsa needing all the strength in her body to restrain her woman as she thrashed wildly.

Later, they spooned under their fluffy duvet to recover. "Are you all right?" Elsa murmured while kissing the dark sheen of hair in front of her.

Her fiancée nodded, looking backwards to kiss her tenderly. "What… happened in there?" Ava sounded unsure, hesitant even.

Nuzzling her lover's neck, Elsa sighed. "I lost control, Ava…" Bolstered by soothing palms gliding over her skin, she continued. "I liked it."

At that admission, they were both quiet. Contemplating silently for a few minutes, both women began to feel a closeness and honesty they'd only ever brushed at before.

"Elsa?" Ava mumbled.

"What is it, darling?" Elsa replied drowsily.

Ava wriggled underneath the blanket, snuggling closer. "I'm… sorry for being so… insecure before," she whispered.

There was no response. Eventually, the medic realized her fiancée had fallen asleep, while her words dangled in the air like so many things unsaid.

* * *

DSI Boyd and Dr. Grace Foley sat facing each other in his office, their morning coffee cooling. Papers were strewn across the desk between them as they tried to puzzle out the missing pieces to their case.

"If he did order the murders of Miss Moore's parents…" Grace thought aloud, "Not to mention the personal nature of the acts, then Stefan Rose is an extremely dangerous man. But why leave her alive? Was it a mistake?"

"Of course he's a bloody extremely dangerous man," Boyd argued. "I mean, it goes without saying, if that's his handiwork!" He gestured towards the conference room where the whiteboard still contained the crime scene photos.

Grace frowned, trying to find some congruity to the actions of a madman. "The rage and violence of these murders was the result of what Stefan Rose perceived as a wrong."

Peter snorted. "That's rich, coming from a man with no morals concerning blood diamonds."

"That's the point, Peter," Dr. Foley countered blithely. "A psychopath _has no_ morals." She sighed, shuffling between one file and another. "It would help if I could talk to his daughter, but I don't know where to get hold of her."

Boyd looked over his spectacles at her, as if the answer were completely and utterly obvious. "Have you tried ringing her girlfriend?" he inquired, a faint smirk present on his face.

"Oh, stop being such a school boy!" the psychologist scolded playfully while folding her hands in mild admonishment. "I've tried Miss Moore's mobile phone three times today, and even left a voicemail. She hasn't gotten back to me yet."

"If we find her, we'll very likely find Aurora Rose," Boyd looked grumpily thoughtful for a moment. "What about the other one?" he ventured, as Grace looked at him expectantly.

"The one at the school…" he added impatiently.

Grace shrugged and ignored the urge to roll her eyes at the surly investigator. "I'm not a mind reader, Peter. Who?" she muttered.

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" he ground out angrily. "The gym teacher, whom according to Spencer got inside Aurora Rose's knickers as well!" His ill temper afforded Boyd no manners.

Looking at Boyd with reproach, Dr. Foley responded coolly. "Must you be so crude, Peter?" she asked disapprovingly as her hands rose to make air quotations. "Besides…_'according to Spencer'_ doesn't necessarily mean she's guilty of it."

Boyd protested loudly. "Oh, come on Grace! Judging by what we've heard already, they're probably all at it in that school. The damned place should be shut down," he muttered the last of his statement, his anger at the lack of cooperation from the school regarding the case showing.

Knowing he'd been pushed into a corner by his burst of emotion, Grace sought to distract Peter with facts. Checking the information sheets on her lap, the forensic psychologist's eyes ran down the page. "The teacher that Spencer referred to is Miss Elsa Arandelle," she announced.

"I want to interview her," Boyd declared, his finger tapping harshly against the desk. "Get her in here… first thing tomorrow, would you please?"

* * *

The next morning, Elsa awoke groggy and sore. She reflected that it was no doubt due to last night's exertions. A shiver ran over her cold, naked form as she sat up in the bed and checked the clock on the mantelpiece. It showed 8:39AM, meaning Ava's shift at the hospital had started an hour and thirty-nine minutes before.

Reaching for her phone on the bedside table, she grimaced at seeing three missed calls and three voice messages. She yawned before taking the phone, and pushed a pillow behind her stiff back to make herself comfortable before reading the information on the screen. The first of the missed calls was from a local number she didn't recognize, and the second and third were from a London-based number.

Pressing the button to retrieve her voicemail, the automated voice called out the message details robotically:

'First voice message, received today at seven fifty eight A. M.' _"Hello Miss Arandelle, my name is Dr. Grace Foley… of the Middlesbrough Cold Case Unit. I was wondering if you were free to come in for a chat some time this morning in relation to your former colleague, Miss Maleficent Moore? It's nothing to worry about! Just a chat."_ The caller then chuckled good naturedly before leaving a phone number Elsa could contact to get back to her.

The second and third voicemails were from Maleficent, and much harder to decipher. Though awake, Elsa's mind struggled to comprehend what she was hearing. Her friend's voice was even more frightened in the third voicemail, only reiterating what Elsa had learned in the message before it.

_"Els', we're in London,"_ a small voice so different from Mallie's normal tone confessed. _"I can't tell you where, but I need your help."_ There was a brief pause, as though the typically stoic woman was composing herself. The sound of a motorbike zoomed by before she spoke again._ "Elsa, I don't want to use my cell in case he's tracking us…"_

Elsa almost found herself asking 'who?' before remembering she was listening to a message. Maleficent went on to request her to drive to London. Frowning as the message went on, Elsa listened as Maleficent issued details of the pay as you go cell phone that Aurora had bought in a Vodafone store the day before, and directed her to dial that number when she arrived. _Then_, Mallie would meet with her.

For the first time in their long friendship, Elsa began to feel resentful, and more than a little apprehensive. She dressed quickly and hopped into her pickup to do as she was bid, slapping the steering wheel in annoyance.

Following a very embarrassing twenty-minute visit to the Middlesbrough Cold Case Unit, Elsa drove to a nearby Esso petrol station. Filling up the tank for the four-hour plus drive ahead of her, she bought herself a latte to warm the icy feeling in the pit of her stomach before climbing back inside her pick up and roaring off down the M1 motorway to London.

It was a long trip through gridlock traffic, and Elsa arrived closer to the five-hour mark. Parking outside a greasy spoon cafe, she tapped the number Mallie had given her into her phone. It was answered on the second ring.

"Were you followed?" Maleficent asked anxiously.

"I doubt it," Elsa bit back, exasperated. "Not unless whoever you think is after you knew about my unexpected road trip."

Maleficent was quiet on the other end of the phone, the irritability in her friend's sharp comment clear. "I assure you, I'm telling the truth," she stated, her voice like a child's imploring to be believed. Upon receiving another long silence in response, she sighed and gave her location. "Meet me at the Tea Room, in Harrods." The line went dead.

When Elsa finally walked into the restaurant twenty minutes later, she felt slightly guilty for being so hostile on the phone. At the farthest table in the back, Maleficent sat, her eyes scanning the room rapidly before relaxing into relief upon Elsa's advancing form. She was too thin, and too pale.

"Hi…" Elsa greeted shortly, giving her friend a loose hug and trying not to flinch at the bony shoulders that poked at her own. She sat, motioning for Maleficent to fill her in on recent events.

Sensing Elsa's mood, Maleficent leaned forward to place a hand on the other woman's arm. "I know I've upset you, by bringing you into all of this," she began, her eyes revealingly vulnerable. "You're the only one left I can trust."

A couple of patrons nearby stared as Elsa abruptly drew backwards, leaving Maleficent's hand to fall forward on the glass table. "And what about Aurora, hmm? Can't you trust her anymore?" she snapped. At her friend's wounded glare, she waved her hand. "Before I drove down here today, I had to visit the CCU!"

"Why?" Maleficent asked, offended at what she perceived to be the police overstepping their bounds as she poured more tea for herself and a fresh cup for Elsa. "You have nothing to do with this!"

"They wanted to follow up on allegations that Aurora was involved with me, too," Elsa countered in a tight voice as she snatched up the steaming demitasse. "Some people have nothing better to talk about."

Maleficent listened, her heart sinking as Elsa rambled on between sips of tea. "After correctly informing them it wasn't true, I felt it necessary to point out that I am already engaged. I then got in my car to come here."

Her face becoming cooler by the moment, Maleficent simply nodded once. "I understand…"

"_No, Mallie._ You understand _ingen!" _[2] Elsa declared while leaning forward. "I'm not going to lie. Before Ava, I would have done anything for you, but…"

"…You have your priorities now," Maleficent interrupted, ignoring the sting of tears she felt. Producing a black attaché, she suppressed the grief rising in at Elsa's words before handing it over stiffly. "I need you to keep her… this safe for a few days. After that, I'll come for it. Will you do me this one last favor?"

Nodding curtly, Elsa took the bag and got up. "I need to get back on the road," she murmured, looking stubbornly at the floor.

Rising from her own chair, Maleficent pulled the only friend she'd ever known into a tight embrace. She withdrew first by gently pushing at Elsa's shoulders, and walked to the front of the restaurant to disappear out the revolving door.

* * *

Elsa arrived back in West Lane just over four hours later, having floored it out of London to avoid the evening rush hour. Opening the apartment door, she checked to make sure that Ava wasn't home before dropping the black leather bag on the hallstand.

She'd checked the contents of the attaché while sitting in the truck outside of Harrods before driving home. Taking the thick dossier out, Elsa had run her fingers lightly over it while debating whether to open it or not. Reasoning with herself that she had a right to know what she was so seemingly valuable that Maleficent required _her_ to be kept safe… whoever _her_ was, Elsa had opened the file.

_Her. Lilith Maleficent LaFey._ Elsa's iron self control served her well in not visibly reacting to the photos and information she found inside while in plain view of those who sauntered just outside her truck, but her stomach roiled what little tea she had drank at their meeting. Placing it back inside the bag and far away from her on the seat, she had driven as fast as legally possible back to Middlesbrough. Along the way, she'd decided that she was in way over her head. Betrayal was bitter on her tongue as she repeated the name on the file over and over. Nine years. Nine damned years of friendship, she'd cursed. This was her reward?

Now back in the relative safety of her home, she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for coffee before ringing the CCU department back. After a brief phone call in which Dr. Foley assured Elsa that Detective Goodman would come around and collect the file, the tired and overwhelmed woman wandered into the living room. Reclining into a comfortable chair, she unintentionally fell asleep.

Jolting awake an hour later, she found Ava sitting opposite her, reading the file. "Oh Gud, let me explain…"[3]

Snapping the file shut to set it aside, Ava walked across the living room and knelt before her. "Elsa, what in the hell is going on?" she asked, her eyes wide in horror.

As she waited for DC Goodman to arrive, Elsa got up to pace the floor. She had witnessed the sheer terror in Ava's face because of Mallie's secrets, and they began to weigh heavier and heavier on her heart. She'd always suspected some sort of duplicity on the part of her friend, but her name? To her, your name was your honor, your word. It was the name she'd cried out for support to whenever she was low, and in happiness when they'd had peace for all those years. Today's revelation stung like an open wound.

"This guy… He murdered her entire family," Ava spoke again as she paced alongside the silent, brooding blonde. "And Maleficent has asked you to keep something which contains all the evidence of what he did in your possession?!" Shaking with anger, her conclusion was filled with quiet rage. "Does that woman have any fucking idea of the danger she put you in?" Merely disliking Maleficent before, now she wanted to deck her.

"That's why I called the CCU," Elsa agreed, finally speaking. "She's asked too much of me. I won't put our safety at risk, not for her. Not for anyone."

At the assertion, Ava pulled up short to stare at Elsa in confusion. The pained expression on her fiancée's face was in total opposition to the words that had poured from her mouth, but she didn't dare disagree.

* * *

Aurora munched happily on a piece of pizza. While Maleficent was out, she'd ordered the mozzarella pie and some beer from the café downstairs, still in awe that this loft was hidden so well in a bustling office building with floor level storefronts. It was just another one of Maleficent Moore's surprises - she'd unwillingly taken them here to lay low for a few days once being out in the open seemed more harmful than the memories the loft held. Behind armed guards in the lobby and fourteen floors of keypad-entry only security, the Christopoulos Trading, LLC building seemed like a prime choice, except for it's unfortunate and glaringly obvious name. At first, they'd behaved like there was a red sniper scope on their foreheads. Over the course of two days, even Maleficent had relaxed, but only minutely. She never went near the windows.

Of course, Maleficent still went outside, even after the Vodafone store scandal of 2014 where she'd "accidentally" slapped a man who looked at Aurora the wrong way. It had turned out he was just a creep. So much for laying low.

To her right, the loft's industrial door unlocked and slid open. Stepping inside with a flourish, Maleficent closed and latched the steel door while dropping her purse. The attaché case was missing.

"Umm, where's the file?" Aurora peeped, hoping that it hadn't been forgotten somewhere along the woman's travels. It had been a major source of tension between the two since Maleficent admitted she had found it - declaring it vastly unsafe and refusing to acknowledge its presence in their company. Aurora could hardly blame her. She'd anticipated a knock down, drag out argument when it had been discovered the morning after she was found by her lover. Not wanting to wake her, the proud woman had gone looking for undergarments and socks or some such thing. Pretending the offensive pictures and documents did not exist kept both of them from saying spiteful things they didn't mean.

Her head hanging and shoulders drooping, Maleficent seemed to wilt before her eyes. "It's somewhere safe," she ground out.

Frowning at the behavior, Aurora hopped off the barstool that was part of a makeshift dining set in the loft's galley kitchen. "Hey… What happened out there?" she asked softly, running a palm over the shiny mahogany tresses that fell around Maleficent's shoulders as she shook her head.

Ignoring the question, Maleficent pulled away from her touch to tug at a painting of her family on the wall. It swung away from the exposed brick to reveal a safe. "I spent the last of our cash," she muttered. "That's what happened."

Aurora gasped at the sight. "Oh god, I don't think I can look at another safe in my life. What's in there, a severed head?"

Her love stiffened to stand still as a statue, her hand frozen on the safe's dial.

"Geez! I'm sorry!" Aurora squeaked before clapping a hand over her mouth.

Suddenly, Maleficent's shoulders began to shake. But instead of crying, her laughter broke through the silence. Throwing a smirk over her shoulder, she continued to spin the safe's dial once more. Puzzled but ecstatic at seeing a smile fall to the red lips once more, Aurora joined in the chuckling.

"No, sweet one. That's the other safe. This safe is for severed hands…" Maleficent joked drily as she turned back towards the lock.

Aurora clammed up instantly.

The safe clanked open with one final turn of the dial, and Maleficent turned back towards the quiet young woman. Delaying her earlier actions in preference of soothing Aurora, she walked towards her with open arms. Tucking the girl into a fierce hug, she kissed the head full of glowing blonde hair that shook with quiet sobs. **"Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim,"** she crooned. _Be patient and tough; some day this pain will be useful to you._

**"Ait alter ego tui?"** Aurora mumbled while burying her face in the familiar scent of perfumed skin. _Says your alter ego?_

"Just me," came the somehow soothing response. Pulling back to slide her hands down Aurora's arms to her hands, Maleficent tugged. "Come. I need your help."

As they stood by the safe, Aurora sniffed back her tears and looked vaguely inquisitive at the contents. Once Maleficent had removed most of the billfolds of money and placed them on the floor with disinterest, she reached her body into the cavernous metal safe and produced a rectangular velvet trifold box. She passed it to Aurora's waiting hands and knelt down to transfer the money into a valise.

The box was heavy, and Aurora's mind burned at the possibility of what lay inside. She walked back to the kitchen and laid the flocked fabric container down before opening the snap to unfold the top. Her blue eyes gleamed with the refracting light that instantly caught the glittering prize. "You have got to be kidding me!" she hissed.

Maleficent's gaze turned upwards, insecurity at Aurora's reaction plain in her worried eyes. "I assure you, I am not kidding," she spoke clearly, awaiting the young woman's next response with bated breath.

Gaping like a fish, Aurora shoved the royal blue box away a bit in fright or wonder - Maleficent couldn't be sure. "That's the Great Chrysanthemum diamond! Set in a necklace… Everyone has wondered who bought it back in the 90's!" she yelped.

Standing up to brush her pants off, Maleficent tried to appear unaffected by the memories the bauble brought forth. She shook her head to clear it as a string quartet began to play in the recesses of her mind and shrugged. "You know it, then?"

"Do I know it?" Aurora scoffed, playing at being offended.

Striding into the kitchen, Maleficent then reached past Aurora to grasp at the necklace. She lifted it carefully from it's pillowed cocoon and slid the cool precious gem set in gold across Aurora's decolletage to clasp it around her slim neck. Stepping back a foot, she looked critically at the sight before her. "Mmm," she intoned. "It looks far better on you than it ever did me."

Aurora wheezed, afraid to move. "I am wearing £16 million pound sterling diamond on my neck right now, and all you can talk about is who looks better in it?!"

"It's insured for $25 million American dollars," Maleficent commented drolly, an eyebrow raising in pleasant surprise when her amare looked even more horrified by the moment by the gem's perceived value.

Unclasping the necklace to lay it back into the box, she then snapped it shut once more. "My grandmother thought it was just a necklace, though pretty enough to grace her beloved granddaughter's neck as a gift for her fourteenth birthday. It's a dreadful heavy thing to wear for long, mind you. However beautiful people find it, my parents hated it-"

"-Because it was mined in South Africa?" Aurora interrupted, and rubbed absentmindedly at her neck.

"Indeed," Maleficent responded, tilting her head at the box. "Pretty things, pretty things, all bathed in blood."

Though her sudden reaction was completely irrational, Aurora did not stay her hand when it shot out to push at the blue velvet like it contained a viper. "I hate it," she announced.

Poking at the velvet herself in experiment, Maleficent agreed. "As do I."

Aurora's hands came up to pet at her lover's neck where the orange-brown diamond would have laid. "But, I love you," she said. "Just you. You were beautiful without the stupid thing, I'm sure. More beautiful, even."

Faster than a blink, Maleficent's lips were on hers, pressing hungrily. Gasping her shock at the reaction, Aurora then smiled and returned the kiss. Once she'd given the green light, it seemed to fan whatever flames had burned down to embers in the past weeks to a scorching hot inferno as Maleficent clutched at her so hard that Aurora could feel the bite of fingernails through her shirt. A mild protest escaped her lips at that feeling, and Maleficent was gone just as quickly as she'd came.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she panted, her eyes tortured. "I'm not gentle, Aurora. There's no sweetness and light in me any more. I'm not sure there ever was."

Shaking her head vehemently, Aurora launched herself at Maleficent, toppling them both down to the hardwood floor. Ignoring the pain in her knees as she straddled the awestruck woman beneath her, and unbuttoned the oxford shirt covering the curvy flesh that she sought the most. "I love your darkness. I'll be your light," she asserted, raising her own eyebrow in challenge.

After what seemed to be a war of wills in Maleficent's swirling green eyes, she exhaled haltingly and sat up to recapture Aurora in a kiss that put all others to shame. It was as if she were trying to test the limits of Aurora's love and perhaps even the veracity of her statement as she did not hold back in nipping the young woman's lips or when her mouth moved down to bite at the crook of the girl's neck. She craved the noises that unfurled from the petal pink mouth when she did so.

Wrenching her own shirt off, she reached forward to assist Aurora in divesting her clothing. They rolled as they did so, biting, sucking, kissing and snarling in a game of chase and catch, dominance and submission. Once finished with that task, their naked bodies reached the edge of a couch in the sitting area, and Maleficent's eyes glowed in triumph. Pinning Aurora to the foot of the couch with one arm and hitching the young woman's leg around her hip with the other, she waited for acquiescence to bloom in those blue eyes.

"God, fuck me before I combust, please," Aurora begged, weighed down by both Maleficent's stare and body. It had been her plan all along to rile them up to this point of no return, and her heart pounded in tandem with her heavy breaths.

"As you wish, Beastie," Maleficent granted, her palm finding purchase against the slick wetness between trembling thighs. Not wasting time with pleasantries, her fingers slipped both inside and over the swollen nub of flesh that never failed to have Aurora writhing.

Aurora threw her head back, shouting her ecstasy for the mysterious line between pain and pleasure that quenched her deepest desires. It was in these moments that all of her love's masks fell away.

Honesty was found somewhere between her biting curses during lovemaking, and her tranquility afterwards.

* * *

1\. Min kjærlighet - You are my love.

2\. Ingen - Nothing.

3\. Gud - God


	14. Prima Facie (At First Sight)

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! I hope that our last chapter was a bit of an eye opener for you – as far as character motives and what drives them (or drove them) to actions both in the present and the past. We're going to explore a lot more of that in this chapter, as well. There's drama, there's flashbacks, there's angst and fluff. A subnote on the chapter title – While 'prima facie' can be used to describe '(love) at first sight' or the meeting of two people for the first time, it is also used in modern law to signify that on first examination, a matter appears to be evident from the facts. Prima Facie denotes evidence that would be sufficient to prove a particular fact. Most legal proceedings require a burden of proof before a case against a party can exist, following which proceedings may then commence.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Elements (Orchestral Version,)" by Lindsey Stirling – (Maleficent's nightmare)**

**"Snow White Queen," by Evanescence - (Maleficent's nightmare) **

**"No Light, No Light," by Florence + The Machine – (Driving)**

**"Brazen (Weep,)" by Skunk Anansie (Ava and Maleficent)**

* * *

**Chapter 14: Prima Facie (At First Sight)**

* * *

Falling asleep was never the hardest. The most difficult thing in her life was staying asleep – that blissful darkness which ought to envelop and comfort her with quiet and peace. Then again, Maleficent was a study in opposites. She who appeared to like darkness in the light of day truly hated the darkness in her mind.

She'd stared long at photo albums pulled off of dusty shelves earlier, regaling Aurora with happy memories that poked forth from the visual cues. Snippets and flashes of her mother's bright red hair and cunning smile, or how her father's strong hands would lift and spin her while they danced across the marble floor of their summer home's large foyer in Sevenoaks, Kent. The house had been just an hour and a half southeast of London, but a world away.

"_You were such an adorably silly teenager," _Aurora had giggled, staring at the last pictures of the album. _"Who took these pictures?" _

"_I don't remember," _Maleficent had answered truthfully.

Soft snores came from the young woman asleep next to her as Maleficent huffed and tossed in the bed. The loft was meant for quick overnight stops for their family when in London, not lengthy stays. As such, the queen sized mattress wasn't particularly comfortable. She'd turned the space into a storage for her old life before college, and if she was being honest with herself, the place with its odd conglomeration of furnishings was beginning to feel suffocating. It felt as if she ought to remember what each trinket and photo meant to her, but their significance had long been forgotten. Either that, or the memories had been stored away as well - in some dusty loft at the farthest recesses of her brain.

Her eyelids slid closed into slumber at long last as the wall clock in the bedroom nook ticked to 2:31AM.

_Her mother's voice was furious. "I don't find it appropriate, Lysander! She's fourteen for godssakes – my mother just couldn't resist flaunting their newest acquisition, and they're using Mallie to do it!" _

"_Mia, Mia. Talk softly... She'll hear you," her father pleaded. She'd already heard._

Flash.

_The cold weight of metal and gems against her neck and chest made her shiver. Her Grandmother Evie looked so proud, tearing up as she brushed at the soft curls that fell around Maleficent's face. _

"_For my little princess," the silver haired beauty whispered before clearing her throat and adjusting the neckline of the satin and lace confection that she had been coerced into wearing. _

"_You'll have your choice of boys to dance with tonight!" she crowed. _

_Maleficent wrinkled her nose at that. _

Flash.

_The straining, sharp sounds of string instruments playing. _

Maleficent groaned, turning again in the bed. Her mind screamed to wake up, but the Zolpidem she took at 11:00PM wouldn't allow her eyelids to budge past a flutter. Drowning, she was drowning.

_More violin, a waltz this time. Heavy hands guided her across the dance floor, and she spun in time with the music. _

_A man's deep voice drew her attention, gravelly and stinking of tobacco. "Thank you for dancing with me, Lilith. Are you enjoying your birthday?" _

"_Ehm, it's Mall- look, never mind," she stuttered. The man was at least ten years older than she was, and his proximity gave her the creeps. Muttering her goodbye, she was surprised when his cold grip bit into her wrist. _

"_You must be ever so happy to receive such a necklace," he whispered. "You look beautiful in it, if I may say so." _

_Maleficent shrugged, tugging at the gentleman's grasp. "It's okay, I guess." She didn't like the necklace. It was heavy, and made her Mother angry._

_A grin spread across the man's lips before he spoke again. "Did you receive your gift from me, yet?"_

"_I... I don't know," she responded, confusion lacing her words. _

"_Oh, you'll know. You'll like it, I'm sure," he declared knowingly. The hand on her wrist disappeared then, leaving only the throbbing reminder of the sheer force of its hold. His brown haired head turned away smoothly as the man turned his back on her and walked towards her parents. _

_Once he'd reached the throng of well wishers surrounding her parents, the man turned around to spare one last look at her. Stefan Rose's frigid glare cut through her like knives. _

Gasping for air, she couldn't breathe. Aurora's voice sounded submerged under land and sea as she begged her to wake up. The wall of blackness fell once more.

_Screams rent the air; both a girl's plaintive cries and vicious henchmen echoing them in a jeering manner._

"_Where is it?" a mouth twisted in hatred spat down at her. _

_Maleficent howled in pain as the knees of the man sitting on her chest dug into her arms. "I don't know!" _

_Fingers snapped as the man requested something from the goons. A tall, bald one pulled a chain garrotte out of his coat pocket and tossed it to the man's waiting hands. _

_Those hands lengthened the chain into a taut line, very clearly showing it to her. The jangle of the chain's sharp links made her wince and cry out once more. _

"_I know what you're doing," Stefan Rose warned. He was masked, but she recalled his voice from the party. "I don't want to kill you, but you make it hard on me. One last time... Where. Is. It?" he demanded, spittle flying from his clenched teeth. _

_Sheer terror welling at the sight of what lay in store if she didn't tell made her scream all the harder. The trouble was, Maleficent had absolutely no idea what he was looking for. _

She bolted upwards, clawing at her throat. Anguished shrieking poured forth from her mouth, only interrupted by her punctuated inhalations. Aurora scrambled backwards to cover her ears, her face awash in fear. Breathe, scream. Breathe, scream.

There was the sound of pounding on the steel door. "Ma'am! Ma'am, are you alright?" male voices pressed, but the noise only frightened her more. Maleficent scrambled up and away from the sound to grab at the headboard, cursing just as clamorously as she'd screamed. She would have climbed the wall if she'd been capable.

"Oh...God!" Aurora's troubled shout broke through the din. "We're fine! We're okay!" she yelped at the door as she threw a sweater over her nightgown. Once she'd done up a few buttons, she tried to wrap Maleficent's nude form in the duvet. It was a difficult task chasing the terrified woman over the pillows, but eventually Aurora was able to heap her weight and a mess of sheets and blankets on top of the sobbing body that was slowly becoming aware of its surroundings.

Of course, it was not any use to tell the armed guards that she and Maleficent were just dandy when they'd very clearly heard screeching and carrying on. Aurora had tried to wake her moaning and twitching lover for close to twenty minutes before she'd risen from the depths of sleep with her hair-raising racket.

Storming through the door with hands on their side arms, the building's defenders took in the scene. The tiny blonde woman the staff had come to know as Aurora was standing at the foot of the bed, arms held out in a protective stance against their advance. "I said... we're _fine._ She's just had a nightmare is all," she announced, assertiveness rolling off her in waves.

Still, as much as they liked their secretive and normally absent employer's little woman, they had to make sure. The lead guard stepped forward a bit, reaching a hand forward. "Miss...Moore? Are you truly all right?" he inquired concernedly.

Livid green eyes glared at the group of men over the edge of piled blankets. "Get _out_," she ordered, her voice raspy and indignant.

Swallowing in fear at the wrath that swirled in those eyes, the uniformed men stepped backwards a good ways before turning to walk back out of the loft's door. "Ma'am," their lead nodded and replied sharply as he slid the door shut behind him.

Aurora spun towards the bed, shivering with the adrenaline that raced through her. "We're going back to Middlesbrough first thing in the morning. _I don't care _if it's dangerous, Maleficent. This place is hurting you!"

Maleficent burrowed deeper into the blankets as if she was trying to disappear from Aurora's sight. "I couldn't agree more," her voice cracked as she tried to reply coolly, giving away that her veneer of sudden calm was thin, and easily breakable. She remembered. She remembered _everything._

* * *

Stefan's head barrister stalked along the corridor in the Barts Heath Royal London Hospital's non-emergent inpatient ward. Coming to the second last room, Edward Carey spied his employer's hired gun on a hospital trolley. Lenny was an ex rugby player turned enforcer; proud, but intensely dumb. He looked away as Carey entered, pulling the thin blue curtain closed behind him.

Lowering his voice to just above a whisper, the lawyer placed a hand on the side of Lenny's gurney and asked, "Did you retrieve the property?"

"What do you fookin' think?" the thug snapped. "She may be a fit bird [1,] but kicked the living shit out of me, the bitch did. I'd have fooked her up good, but she don't play fair. Took a bloody stick from a rubbish bin to my ribs and jammed her heels in my bits..."

As he noticed the barrister's grip tighten on the bed rail, Lenny's external rambling drifted off. He might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but he knew fear when he saw it. Without another word, Mr. Carey hurriedly left the room.

Lenny leaned back, wincing at the broken rib he'd agitated by moving around while speaking. 'You're a dead man, Carey,' he thought snidely.

Stefan had killed people for less. While Lenny didn't know what was in the file that he'd been ordered to acquire, the specific instructions had been to get the item even if it meant sending Lilith LaFey to the morgue. Edward Carey had also instructed him not to make Mr. Rose aware of the situation. Nobody had bothered to tell him that the spoiled rich brat had grown into a raving madwoman. That pissed him off even more.

However stupid bookwise, Lenny had common sense and street smarts. He wasn't going to end up like Lil' would, being excavated from the Yorkshire moors with a bullet hole in the back of his head just to cover Carey's cock up. Maneuvering himself up despite the pain, he scrabbled inside his jacket and lifted out the phone from his inside pocket. The boss would not be pleased, but he dialed the numbers anyhow.

Thirty minutes later, Edward Carey sat sweating profusely in the smoking shelter of the hospital's car park. Thankfully it was largely empty, allowing the panic stricken man time to think. An item which could send Stefan Rose to prison for the rest of his life was either in the hands of his angry and temperamental teenage daughter, or his greatest enemy born of blood and hate.

His firm would sack him for sure when his involvement in the concealment of a quadruple murder came out. He'd be disbarred from the legal profession. Those issues were the least of his worries, however troublesome. Edward's hopes of retrieving the file were dwindling.

Getting up he quickly, he walked towards his car. He'd decided to ring Bertie Windsor, one of the Senior partners of their law firm to discuss options with him. Edward wanted the best representation upon going to the police, the only other viable way out of this mess. If Stefan Rose had a teenager's entire family brutally murdered over a small case of hypocrisy amongst other things, what would he do to someone who permitted the only existing proof of it to fall into the wrong hands?

A small part of him dwelled upon Maleficent Moore, and whether or not she had seen the contents of the file. A wave of revulsion struck him, realizing the offending material could have sent the woman into some sort of breakdown. What would she do if Aurora Rose was still in her midst? He highly suspected she was, even after Stefan's daughter had told him straight-faced that she wasn't. Perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree; the ability of deception being engrained into the girl's very being by the sins of her father.

Knowing his career and life were over, though not necessarily in that order, Carey walked warily in the underground car park. As he pulled his key fob out to unlock his black Lexus, the unscrupulous lawyer was thrown into the side of the vehicle as two shots ripped through his lower leg and chest. He slid down the driver's side door, his blood leaving a lengthy smear of bright red in its wake.

* * *

As Maleficent's lead foot had the sedan borrowed from the Christopoulos Trading, LLC fleet blazing down the M1, Aurora grabbed the security bar. They'd left ludicrously early to make the drive back, shrugging on their clothing as soon as the sun had risen.

No amount of Aurora's pleading to come back to bed had convinced Maleficent in those precarious hours between nightmare and flight. The woman had clammed up like a vice – her movements tight and painful as she summarily ignored her lover's questions about what she'd dreamed. Instead, Maleficent stomped madly around the loft space to gather their belongings and pack. The last thing her hand came upon was the trifold velvet box, which she had unceremoniously shoved into the deepest part of her bag with an angry grunt. The motion had made Aurora flinch, thinking that the expensive jewel inside ought to be treated better than that, no matter how much it was hated.

Coming back to the present, she sought to distract Maleficent with conversation; anything to calm her love down enough to reduce the speed at which they were traveling. "So, you'll be happy to be back in Middlesbrough, right? All of your friends are there – Elsa, and Ava..." she commented.

An achingly slow sideways glare came from Maleficent's green eyes, rimmed in red from tears and lack of sleep. She didn't answer the question; instead reaching down to the console for her pack of cigarettes and lighting what Aurora had counted as her tenth in six hours. Large, black sunglasses slid down from her head and back over her eyes. They'd been worn out of the loft earlier as a disguise, and now they were being used as a tactic to shut out the world.

Frustrated with being ignored, Aurora snatched the cigarettes from the console and lit one. She blew the smoke out rapidly to fill the cabin with the noxious fumes, and puffed again. _That _got Maleficent's attention.

"Don't..." she requested barely above a whisper before sighing. "It's an awful habit."

"Yes, well... If you're set on poisoning my lungs with second hand smoke, then I might as well enjoy it," Aurora quipped. "What the hell is going on, Maleficent? I've never seen you like this before. Angry, sure. Scary, even! But...you're as cold as ice," she rambled before her voice died, hurt lacing the words. Pondering for a moment, the young woman focused on the one thing that the other seemed to hate most – vulnerability. "Are you scared?"

Maleficent snorted before replying indifferently. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit!" Aurora shouted. Groaning when Maleficent visibly startled and swerved a bit, she quieted her voice. "Sorry. Look, I know you think you're this... I don't even know what. My protector? Let me help for once. God!" she muttered, taking another drag of the cigarette before flicking the ash out the window. "Your friends can help too,_ if you'll let them_."

"I have no friends," Maleficent mumbled, before switching into the fast lane to speed around a slow moving car.

Taken aback, Aurora turned her whole body to face her troubled lover. "What... You're not friends with Elsa? Pfft. Come on, Maleficent."

When the only response was the shrug of a shoulder, Aurora became even more baffled. Sitting back and crossing her arms, she thought deeply for a few minutes at the odd behavior. From what Elsa had told her before, she and Maleficent had been thick as thieves for nearly a decade. However, since they'd been holed up in London, there had been nary a mention of other teacher.

She'd not given it much thought before, but a time line began to form in her head. If it wasn't related specifically to their self imposed exile, then what? Thinking about the reactions of the girls her age, Aurora came to the first conclusion. Elsa hadn't specifically told Aurora that she disliked her presence, but could that be it?

"Does Elsa not like me, or something?" she grasped at straws aloud. Why else would the two friends part badly?

Maleficent shook her head. "No, _no._ Don't ever think this is your fault, amare," she insisted rather suddenly and sweetly. It came out sounding guilty, instead.

Going down the line, Aurora blurted out the next person on her mind. "Ava doesn't like me?"

Visibly tensing, Maleficent grit her teeth into a grimace. "That woman doesn't like anyone, Aurora."

Squinting her eyes in suspicion, the eighteen year old knew she'd hit jackpot. It would be hilarious if she weren't trying to puzzle out what was making her love so unhappy. Maleficent was deflecting specific answers and projecting her own feelings instead. "You and Ava don't like each other," Aurora chuckled. "Oh, my God! And I thought women my age were silly."

Unable to dance around the truth any longer, Maleficent smirked.

Aurora caught the half-smile and fought the urge to burst out laughing. "What, did you two fight over Elsa? Or..."

"We simply don't get along," Maleficent interrupted, frowning once more. As Aurora scoffed and mumbled at the window about grown women acting like children, she remembered the first time she'd ever laid eyes on Ava Gibney. It was also the moment Maleficent had decided she didn't like the woman, and the feeling was evidently quite mutual from the start.

_The first week of school over, Maleficent and Elsa had dragged themselves 45 minutes south to York's bustling pubs for a well needed break. Hoping to drink in peace and anonymity in the city's thriving gay scene, they relaxed over their pints while seated at the far section of the bar near the telly. _

"_Oh, and the new students. Don't get me started..." Elsa grumbled. "They're already going on about my accent." _

"_Well, you did retain most of it," her drinking partner remarked wryly. "I've tried over and over to teach you how to speak like a Brit, but you don't listen."_

_Turning to face Maleficent, the blonde's hands waved animatedly in the air. "Mallie, you go from London's accent to Yorkshire without blinking an eye. I can't learn like that. The Americans didn't mind our accents, why should the English mind mine?" _

_Suddenly, the show on the television gave Maleficent a brilliant idea. The several pints of beer she'd already drank were talking, too. "Talk like a stereotypical Brit until you get the hang of it!" she snapped her fingers. _

_Elsa snorted before taking a swig of her beer. "Good evening, this is the BBC," she began before dissolving into laughter. _

"_No, no! Not like a posh arsehole," Maleficent snickered. _

"_Okay, so don't speak like you then," her friend teased before receiving a push to the shoulder from a thin hand. Maleficent's drunken ire only made Elsa laugh louder. _

_Raising her eyebrow, Maleficent's red lips curled into a smile before belting out "Git' out muh pub! Go'on! Git' outta here!" _

_The barkeep on television repeated the line a beat later, sending Elsa into hysterics. "Oh, my Gud. It's been too long since I've gotten you blasted..."_

_A large, stylish hobo purse slapped the bar counter next to Elsa, and a shorter, deliciously curvy woman sat down before turning towards the pair. Her blue eyes glittered with amusement as she took in the heavily painted, willowy brunette, but widened with desire at the fit blonde beside her. "Shut it, you tart!" she quoted the show loudly to tease the woman who had been shouting at the telly. _

_Elsa jerked towards the hilarious new arrival, her laughter swallowed quickly as she took in the amateur comedienne's simple, natural beauty. Sipping her beer for courage, she thrust her hand out in greeting. "Elsa...Elsa Arandelle," she announced awkwardly. _

_The woman chuckled, shaking her head full of auburn and chocolate tresses. "Fancy a dance, Elsa... Elsa Arandelle?" _

_Summarily forgotten, Maleficent crossed her arms and glared at the interloper. The woman who introduced herself as Ava before leading Elsa onto the dancefloor didn't even bother to say hello to her, past what she perceived as a thinly veiled insult. Her green eyes narrowed in irritation before turning away from the sight of them dancing._

Aurora's singing to a song on the radio distracted Maleficent from her inner musings. A sign on the side of the motorway told her that they'd driven half of the way back to Middlesbrough, and her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel to expel her tension without taking it out on Aurora again. The young woman was far more observant than anything, and Maleficent did not want to continue their conversation in the same vein it had been headed.

A wave of something akin to jealousy shivered over her skin before settling in her gut like dead weight at Aurora's curiosity about Ava. No, she didn't want to talk about this at all.

* * *

Elsa watched from behind the curtain of the upstairs windows as DC Goodman walked across the road to her car, the black attache case under her arm. It had taken another day and two more phone calls to the CCU, but the deed was finally done. When the Detective had started up the engine and driven away, Elsa exhaled heavily. Maleficent had called her twice since she'd arrived home, but she had simply swiped 'Reject call' each time. She was no fool, having known the haunted woman for the better part of a decade. Elsa knew when Mallie was being manipulative, and the one voice mail she'd left her was dripping with it, as well as tears.

The more she recalled Mallie's duplicity, the angrier she got. Her pride was hurt; that she could have been so naive as to have such a close friendship with someone who turned out to be practically a stage character. Her scowl turned curious as she walked down the stairs and smelled food. Wandering into the kitchen, she saw Ava making dinner. A small smile formed on the blonde's lips as her mouth watered.

Sensing she had company, Ava turned around, her blue eyes widening briefly. She'd been so absorbed in cooking that she hadn't noticed her fiancee at the kitchen door.

"You've just come home from work," Elsa frowned as she motioned at Ava with her chin.

"And you're stressed beyond belief. Besides, you work so hard the rest of the year..." Ava replied while breaking some pasta into a pot of boiling water.

Picking up a mushroom from the chopping board, Elsa popped it in her mouth.

Indulgently doting of her love, Ava smiled at the action. "Go and have a nap," she nudged as she took the chopping board from the counter to slide the mushrooms into another pot with her finger. "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Not one to argue with the promise of sleep and food, Elsa nodded and leaned to kiss Ava on the cheek before heading upstairs once more.

She'd been lying down for ten minutes when Ava came in to check on her. The woman was only too aware that she was extremely hurt by recent events, but she tried not to bring it up. Elsa slid over in bed to turn on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. "My back is so sore," she grumbled. Nearly nine hours in a car was catching up with her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ava brushed the blonde's face with the back of her hand. "Lie back down, sweetheart," she requested gently.

Elsa complied, rolling to lay on her stomach. She sighed with relief as Ava's hands began working on her back.

"You'll need a hot shower after this," she warned Elsa.

"Or a cold one," came the muttering reply.

Ava chuckled as she massaged out the knots and tenseness out of the muscles in her woman's aching back. "Come down for dinner," she informed the now relaxed figure beneath her hands.

* * *

Two hours later, Ava was elbow deep in suds doing the washing up. Fed and content, Elsa had retired to bed early and had been curled up hugging a pillow fast asleep the last time she had looked in on her. Placing a wet plate in the dish rack, Ava looked over her shoulder as the doorbell rang. She dried her hands on a tea towel, and went to answer the front door.

Her face hardened the moment she opened the door to see Maleficent Moore standing there, sunglasses worn down the bridge of her nose even in the night air. The tall brunette seemed to wince internally beneath her cold glare before masking it by sliding the dark shades back up. She stepped forward, the light from the hallway spilling onto her sharp features. Ava's professional eye analyzed the sight before her - the woman's eyes had been troubled, deeply set into shadowy relief most likely caused by lack of sleep. _'Good,'_ she remarked internally.

"May I speak with Elsa?" Maleficent requested politely, peering around Ava's shoulder and past the doorway.

"She's asleep," Ava replied expressionlessly, crossing her arms for good measure.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise at the woman's boldness, Maleficent tried again. If politeness hadn't worked – perhaps severity would. "It's imperative, Ava," she informed sternly before removing her sunglasses to tuck them in a pocket.

Sighing in discontent, Ava looked away from the piercing green eyes that dressed her down in only the way a schoolteacher could and stepped aside. Maleficent brushed past her without another word as she entered the apartment.

The younger woman's thoughts turned resentful. She didn't want to wake her fiancee up, but she didn't want to speak for her. If Maleficent had the audacity to show up at this hour despite the fact Elsa had been ignoring her for days, then the consequences were her own.

Maleficent stood in the middle of the living room, watching through speculative eyes while Ava returned to the kitchen to toss the tea towel on the back of a chair.

Ava turned to return the glare. Maleficent, always Maleficent. She'd never liked her from the night she'd first met her with Elsa on a night out. The vile snake of a woman surveyed her judgmentally as she walked around her to pick up the remote control and turn off the telly.

"So..." Maleficent began, "She's asleep, but you're down here? Having a row?" she smirked.

Visibly stiffening, Ava grit her teeth and went for the lowest blow straight off. "Well _if_ it were any of your business that we were havin' a row, it wouldn't be because I'm a bloody teenager with no idea how to treat a woman properly," she snapped back.

Maleficent's eyes flashed furiously at the insult before attempting one of her own. "What Elsa sees in you, I can't imagine..."

"You're _pathetic_, you know that? You do... don't you? Conniving, secretive, _horrible_ woman!" Ava spat while shaking her head. "You're fucked up, that's what you are. You have a taste for goddamn schoolgirls. Don't judge me, you _whore_."

However much they disliked one another, the last word that fell from Ava's lips visibly wounded Maleficent. Shoulders bristled and eyes watered as she walked forward to invade the other woman's personal space. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you," she seethed.

"I fucking dare you," Ava challenged, her fists balling at her sides. "I know what you're here for, and it's gone. Elsa sent it off to the police. _I don't want your filth in my home."_

While she'd meant to say _'that filth,' _Ava stuck to her previous statement in her anger. Fully expecting Maleficent to explode upon that news, her expression was shocked as she visibly saw the woman build a wall around herself instead.

Maleficent seemed to become even taller as her shoulders straightened. The whites of her eyes showed as irises blazed green fire, and her chin raised haughtily to stare down at Ava in disgust.

The mood swing simply wasn't _natural. _It was like the night at the cottage all over again, though this time they were trading barbs rather than arguing over Maleficent needing to go to the hospital. Ava took a step back, crossing her arms.

"You must actually _hate _me, Ava...Tsk. Here I've always enjoyed our usual banter, but this is a new low. Elsa finally told you that she stuck her tongue down my throat at the last Christmas party, hmm?" Maleficent informed her, knowing very well there was no way that Elsa had done so. A brief, self satisfied smile played on her lips as she saw Ava's eyes widen in horror.

That is, until she turned to see what the woman was staring at. Her smile faded rapidly as she saw the expression on Elsa's face while her friend stood on the stairs. In the entire time she'd known her, Maleficent had never seen her look so enraged.

Her blue eyes hardened to ice, Elsa descended the stairs to walk towards her former friend. Her tone was deadly as she whispered the order. "Get out, Mallie."

Maleficent's lower lip trembled for a millisecond at Elsa's pronouncement before she inhaled sharply and turned on her heel to walk out the door, slamming it for effect. What more could she have said?

Betrayal only begets betrayal, and hurt just the same.

* * *

1\. Fit bird – London slang for a pretty woman.


	15. Miror in Mirum (Mirror in the Mirror)

**A/N: Wow! I am so blown away by the discussion regarding Maleficent and Ava's blow up and Elsa's subsequent actions. It may not seem evident now, but these characters all have their reasons for acting as they do. If I gave away all motive straight from the beginning, there wouldn't be any character growth. ;) Luckily for you, there is some insight in this chapter. Eve (while no longer co-authoring as she's stated in the reviews section,) assisted writing the Ava/Maleficent scene, and I really hope that some of what she worked out helps you to understand where the character is coming from. **

**Sub-note on the chapter title: The song Spiegel im Spiegel in the chapter soundtrack is vastly important to this portion of our story. It references the Mirror within the Mirror, or the Infinity Mirror. It can refer to seeing oneself through another person's eyes that see you truly, fate coming full circle, as well as coming to terms with whom you are as a person. The Latin for this kind of phenomenon isn't directly translatable. While the word "mirror" was based on the Latin word Mirum, it means to Ponder, or Wonder. Therefore, the direct Latin translation for this chapter would be Wonder within the Wonder.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Hurt," Leona Lewis (Maleficent writes)**

**"Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self," Pink (Maleficent's introspection at the store)**

**"Gods and Monsters," Lana Del Rey (Aurora and Dr. Foley converse)**

**"Spiegel im Spiegel" - violin and piano, Arvo Part (Aurora and Maleficent dance, hotel room)**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Miror in Mirum (Mirror in the Mirror)**

* * *

"_Sometimes I miss you the way someone drowning remembers the air.__ There is no small amount of pain to it, but rather an intense burning where my heart surely must have laid. There wasn't a connection to that memory before. It was though I was missing someone that I'd never met... someone that I desperately needed to."_

A single teardrop fell to roll down the composition book's page, smearing some of the freshly written ink as it went. Maleficent's index finger ran down the page, scrubbing furiously at the stain. When it became evident that she'd only made it worse, the black smudged finger flew up to her mouth. Once clean, it came back down to hitch behind the page, pulling it slowly from the book. _Riiiiiiiip. _

Other sounds came to her sensitive ears as the dawn rose brightly outside the bay window seat where she reclined.

Light tiptoes skittered down the stairs before shuffling sideways to miss the fourth step's creak. They tapped into the kitchen as Maleficent's mouth curled up into the semblance of a smile. The refrigerator opened, and breathy whispers began to complain at of the lack of milk. Or juice. Or eggs, for that matter.

Suddenly, the slipping of a metallic canister through sleepy hands. _Squeak. _A clatter of the metal on the countertop, and then to the floor. _Clunk, rattle, clank! _More dancing around of those tiny feet on the kitchen floor, and muttered curses that might put a sailor to shame.

Maleficent was at the kitchen threshold without comprehending how. Looking back into the living room, she spied the cable knit throw on the floor, next to her window seat. The composition book laid on top of it, the pages open and askew.

"You're awake," Aurora exhaled quietly from the floor, where she knelt in an attempt to salvage her spilled coffee. "Did you even sleep?"

Turning back slowly to regard the tiny sprite mourning her coffee, Maleficent crouched down as well. "Leave it, amare. I'll go and get more."

Aurora frowned as she shook her head. "You can't drive if you haven't slept. You haven't come to bed for _days..." _

"I haven't been outside in days, either. The fresh air will do me some good," the older woman argued as she scooped up coffee grounds in her hands to deposit them in the wastebasket.

"But!" came the sputtering reply.

"_Please, _Aurora. Don't argue with me today," Maleficent sighed as she stood to rinse her hands.

Following her lover's request didn't mean that Aurora hid her displeasure. As usual, her feelings became quite evident as she stood rapidly before stomping her way back up the stairs. Even the squeaky tread got a good slap of her foot this time around. Moments later the door to the bedroom slammed, followed by the interior bathroom door.

Maleficent watched from below, following the noises as they sounded along the ceiling and echoed. Giving Aurora a few minutes to cool down, she puttered around the kitchen and made a grocery list before heading up the stairs herself.

As she entered the bedroom, the bathroom door's latch audibly locking and the tap running made it clear that Aurora was in anything but a talking mood. They'd waltzed around each other for the past five days and six nights. Avoidance was the tactic of preference at the cottage ever since their arrival home - hers, anyhow. Aurora was more plucky than that.

"_Come to bed..." a sing song voice pleaded. When she'd opened her eyes, those petite hands slid into hers and tugged playfully. Realizing she'd nodded off in her chair, Maleficent straightened and refused. _

"_No," she shrugged the hands out of hers a bit too forcefully. Anything else she would have acquiesced to, but Aurora wanted her to sleep. _

_The hurt in the deep blue eyes was obvious, as well as the indecision in the biting of a rosy lip as the blonde leaned down to stare her in the face. "Won't you tell me? Let me make it go away," those lips begged. "You make my nightmares go away..."_

She would have liked to take a shower, but that required requesting entrance to the bathroom and probably more talking. Instead, Maleficent went into the closet and closed her eyes. Running her hands along the hangers, she sought the softest clothing; comforting, light, soft fabrics. Grasping her favorite light knit cowl neck sweater, a tank top and well worn jeans, she dressed quickly. As she leaned down to dig her one pair of nude sandals out, the door of the closet opened.

Aurora stood there, her eyes apologetic. In her hands were a hairbrush and a strange knit concoction. "Hat," she identified while holding the offending item up. "Your hair...Your other hats won't hide it all."

Despite her prevailing mood, Maleficent chuckled. "I know, my hair is hideous."

Her face brightening a bit as she giggled back, Aurora knelt down. "It's not hideous, you just ran out of dye. Are you going to pick some up?" She pushed the crouching woman's shoulder. "Turn around."

Rolling her eyes, Maleficent did so. As Aurora began to run the brush through her hair, she hummed a bit. It felt nice... reminding her of what it used to feel like when someone else would brush her hair. The odd feeling swirled in her chest uncomfortably, and she reached up to take the brush away. "Would it bother you if I didn't?"

Aurora gave an irritated sigh as the brush was tugged from her fingertips and plunked unceremoniously onto the carpet. "No, but you'd have to fix the ends. You can't go around town looking like this."

"I could just wear your horrible hat for the rest of my life," Maleficent joked. It sounded hollow, even to herself.

The humor fled just as quickly as it came, and the sounds of sniffling filled the air. Aurora stuffed her hair into the cap before crawling in front of her with a critical eye. "You look like... like you're twenty or something," she muttered.

Reaching into her purse for the requisite sunglasses, Maleficent slipped them on. "And now?"

Aurora burst out laughing while wiping tears away.

Her heart skipping with fleeting happiness at the sound, Maleficent hugged the girl close. The beat of her heart evened out as she cradled Aurora in her arms, and her love seemed to understand what she needed. Arms wrapped gently around her back while hands ran soothingly up and down.

"Are you snoring?" Aurora's voice faded through the blissful silence in her mind.

* * *

Of course, the Tesco's on this side of town was packed. Why had she forgotten that it was a Saturday morning? Aurora would be worried if this took too long.

The drive over had been painfully slow, in stark contrast to the quick escape she'd made. Just as images began to swirl in her mind she'd gasped awake, wriggled out of tightly tucked blankets and was chased downstairs by the fiery little blonde woman.

She'd fallen asleep on the floor, and Aurora had somehow gotten her up and into bed.

"_Come back. Damn it Maleficent, you're tired!" Aurora cried out the front door. "You're going to get hurt!" _

She parked the Jag as near to the doors as possible, and groaned when a police cruiser parked a few spots down. Maleficent waved irritably at the constable once she'd exited the car. "I know you have to follow me _everywhere,_ but do you honestly need to come inside as well?"

Detective Constable Stella Goodman smiled pleasantly and crossed her ankles as she leaned against the cruiser. "Don't go disappearing to London for a week and a half, and I won't have to follow you _everywhere_."

"And who watches Aurora while you tail me like some sort of insubordinate, errant child?" Maleficent sniped, grabbing a cart from the canopy. She knew that at least one, sometimes two cars parked discreetly off the side of the road near the driveway ever since they had arrived home.

"I believe Dr. Foley's visiting at the moment, since you won't return her numerous calls. She'll be wanting to speak with you once you return," Stella reported cheerily. "Promise not to frighten any poor, unsuspecting citizens inside with your attitude, and I'll give you thirty minutes alone."

Throwing her hands up in frustration, the tall woman swore the foulest language she knew before ferrying the cart towards the building. Stella laughed before calling out after her, "You're a school teacher with that mouth?"

Maleficent lifted her hands once more in two rude gestures before walking inside the supermarket. Thirty minutes – she had thirty minutes to get what she needed and get out. Rushing down the produce section, she grabbed whatever looked good... which wasn't much. She wanted sweet things, her feet itching to run to the candy aisle. Instead, she forced her hands to pick up a tote of apples, a box of tangerines, some green peppers, zucchini and squash before declaring the basket healthy enough to move on.

Up and down the aisles she went, grasping cereals without really paying attention, yogurts she thought Aurora might like, coffee, and more tea. Along with the standard Lady Grey, she plunked in a box of Scottish Breakfast tea – the more caffeine, the better.

Turning the corner to the bulk aisles, Maleficent began to fill a bag with different things to make a trail mix. Her eyes began to wander the section, finally noticing that other shoppers had stopped to stare at her. An older gentleman following his harried wife quickly folded the newspaper he'd been reading and laid it on top of the cart before turning away. A lady ten feet away from the couple tucked her paper in between some produce in her cart and smiled sadly. Surely the townsfolk weren't so mercurial as to despise her as a cradle robber one day and pity her the next. What was in the paper?

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Maleficent abandoned her cart to walk to the end of the aisle. There on the endcap of the registers were stacks of the morning post, along with The Times from London. Her face paled at the headline of The Times.

**MURDERER IN OUR MIDST**

**Crown Reopens Investigation of Gem Traders' Deaths**

**Requests Transfer of Jurisdiction for Privacy of Survivor**

Beneath the headline were pictures of her as a young teenager, followed by recent shots from London. Someone had been trailing her, taking pictures. Her trembling hands picked up the paper and shook the violating material. They hadn't published her current name, obviously a loss of information at the end of a paper trail. "Privacy?" she barked. "_Privacy?_" She kicked the stack of papers and threw down the copy in her hands like it was a hot coal.

"Maleficent?" a timid voice peeped from behind her.

Turning towards the familiar voice, Maleficent's teeth bared in a mixture of grimace and growl. Ava stood at the end of the aisle, her hand reached out in a calming manner. She was obviously on her way to a shift or was getting off of it, a stethoscope draped around her neck. Several patrons gathered behind Ava, either curious about the scene unfolding or the woman they knew as Miss Moore being in the paper. Some had obviously already read it, their eyes ranging from wary to saddened to sympathetic.

"Don't panic, Mallie," the woman spoke like she was soothing a spooked animal as she stepped forward from the group.

It made her hackles raise all the more. "Jesus, Ava. I'm _fine. _What do you care, anyway?" Maleficent bristled. Taking deep breaths, she ducked under a register chain and sped to the front of the store.

Seeing Maleficent turn away, Ava didn't pursue her straightaway. 'There will be another chance,' the medic thought hopefully, as she watched Maleficent disappear out the sliding doors and into the car park.

The chance came not long after. A gentleman poked her shoulder and whispered, "D'you know her... Miss Moore? She just up and left her groceries," he mumbled, awkwardly gesturing at the abandoned trolley full of food. "A few of us want to pay for it. Can you take it out to her home?"

* * *

Ava had just finished loading the shopping from two carts into one when she spied Maleficent leaning against her Jag, yelling madly at a Constable. The policewoman was trying her best to calm the woman, but it didn't appear to be going very well.

Indecision warred with fear of getting involved with what looked like a tense situation, but Ava knew that if she couldn't hand off the groceries now that she'd have to drive them all the way over to Tollesby. Pushing the trolley that seemed to have a mind of its own, Ava approached the swearing brunette and the defiant looking constable. Her gut told her that she needed to say what she'd originally wanted to inside before Maleficent had looked one nudge short of a breakdown.

She approached the two with a professional stance in case the policewoman objected, but spoke her target's name hesitantly. "Maleficent?"

Even before she turned, the teacher's shoulders hunched in preparation for a wounding word. The fear of rejection was something Ava was all too familiar with, and she recognized the reaction. She trained her face into as much calm as possible, willing the honesty of her planned words to reach her eyes.

"If you've come all the way out here to deliver another of your nasty insults, don't bother," Maleficent spat without even turning around. The constable looked infinitely uncomfortable at those words, and turned towards Ava with a stern look of reproach.

Ava pushed the cart forward anyhow, and came up beside Maleficent to look the unforgiving woman in the face. "Mallie, what I said to you that night was horrendous," she began, obviously attempting to keep her voice steady. "I know that I've been very unkind to you since I met Elsa..."

"So you've decided to come absolve yourself of guilt?" Maleficent interrupted sharply, crossing her arms. "Does Elsa know you're here?"

Ava wilted before her and barely whispered a 'no.'

An awkward silence hung in the air between them, especially as the Detective Constable was their audience.

Ava felt like she was dying inside; as if she were a child again and a cold, cruel female figure was watching and judging her; belittling her. She tried to remember everything she wanted to say, but the memory of that night once Maleficent left filled her mind.

_Sitting at the kitchen table, the mug of peppermint tea went cold in her hands._

_Only hours later, she knew that she should never have said those awful things to Mallie. Her jealousy and fear went out of control around the woman and tonight, Ava had behaved in a way unacceptable to herself and her standards._

_Maleficent Moore was beautiful... and yet, she was detached and frigid to the casual observer. Besides being threatened by the teacher's closeness to Elsa, Ava was psychologically aware enough to know that Maleficent's presence triggered the frightened little girl in her, and vice versa. Her seemingly inexplicable aversion to Maleficent ran deeper than anyone, even Elsa, knew; reminding her of the emotionally unavailable mother she'd wanted so much to love her. _

_In turn, Maleficent perceived weakness as a threat. Territorial to a fault, everything soft about her was simply... absent. _

_Ava ironically witnessed every type of human sickness, both mental and physical, in her line of work. The dysfunctional families; the suicide attempts of sixteen year olds because the world had given up on them. Sometimes the only way they knew how to cry was at the end of a razor blade._

_Sometimes they killed themselves in other ways. _

_Pouring her tea into the sink, Ava went in search of Elsa. _

"We seem to bring out the worst in each other, and I just wanted to apologize," Ava spoke firmly, but her body language betrayed her. "And bring out your groceries; you forgot them." She started hauling the bags off of the trolley to lay them at the constable's feet.

The woman was falling apart, Maleficent could see. For one so brave near Elsa's presence and on her own turf, she was acting like a scared little girl on her first day of boarding school. Still, Ava's wounding words from that evening cut deep, and she wasn't convinced of forgiving her so easily, if at all. She regarded the groceries on the asphalt and looked back up at Ava coolly, thinking she was being expected to forgive that evening for a cart of food.

"D..Did you want to say anything?" Ava blushed, not having stuttered since she was a child.

Frowning at feeling a flicker of sympathy for the woman, Maleficent stepped forward but not close enough to intimidate her. "I know that I frighten you. It would be helpful if you could convince yourself that I am not the person you think I am... Whatever you have cooked up in that head of yours," she spoke sternly.

While staring at the asphalt, Ava saw a slender hand offered to her. For a second, she wondered if it was a trick, and Maleficent would rescind her offer in an attempt to humiliate.

The constable cleared her throat and tilted her head towards the willowy hand that still dangled.

Taking a deep breath, Ava reached out and took it before exchanging a brief squeeze.

Maleficent took her hand back promptly before looking away and crossing her arms once more. "Now, go away. I can't..."

"I know, Mallie," Ava sighed before walking away.

* * *

Aurora had been nervous about letting the forensic psychologist inside, but Dr. Grace Foley's matter of fact and almost doting attitude had won her over in a short amount of time. The woman sat primly on the other side of the kitchen table, sipping her tea gratefully as she took notes about their surroundings. Whatever Grace Foley could see in blue painted cupboards and various knicknacks, she wasn't sure. Still, her observations were never judgmental – she seemed to look around Maleficent's space with a keen, curious eye and a smile that lit up the space every time her eye laid on a new discovery. When that happened, she'd sip her tea and scribble in the file some more.

It might have been endearing if Aurora wasn't presently aware that Dr. Foley was viewing the home as Maleficent's... "gilded cage," she'd called it - analyzing every detail down to the minutest quotient. The dreamcatcher from the library nook was of particular interest, and laid on the table top near Dr. Foley's hand. Every so often, she'd brush at a feather and give a quirky smile. Sometimes, she'd whisper, "Fascinating."

She'd also asked about how Maleficent was doing, and Aurora was purposefully vague in her answers. Surely, telling the doctor that her lover was having trouble sleeping wasn't too much of a privacy issue. It seemed normal under their stressful circumstances.

"So tell me about your mother, Aurora?" the doctor asked nonchalantly, studying her teacup with feigned interest.

Not understanding why it was any of her business, but attempting to be polite anyway, Aurora shrugged. "She was my mother."

"Do you not miss her?" quipped Dr. Foley, turning her eyes upwards to stare deep into the girl's blue irises. "Did she not pass away only a few years ago?"

Aurora shrank a bit in her seat at that all-knowing eagle eye. "Two years, just. That... that was my stepmother. My father married her when I was 4. I never knew my birth mother," she rambled.

"Yes..." Grace nodded. "Your father got a pretty young thing pregnant, and your grandparents took care of you for a few years. That is, until they set him up with Leila," she flipped through her file and made a satisfied smile at it. "She was pretty, Leila was."

Her face wistful at the memory of the woman she'd considered a mother, Aurora found herself nodding along with the psychologist, her hands splayed out into the air as she described the woman. "She was beautiful. She had the most beautiful soul, too. No matter how much Father would yell, she'd always take us away from it with stories or outings."

Dr. Foley folded her hands around the file and gave a pleased expression at Aurora's loosening up. "Leila McAllister was richer than Midas, too. The marriage did well for your father – a pretty, rich blonde with green eyes loaded to the gills," she mused before closing the file with a slap.

Suddenly uncomfortable without knowing why, Aurora shifted and crossed her arms lightly. "I don't follow, Dr. Foley..."

Grace sighed before opening the file once more and dragging out pictures, laying them one after the other across the table as she spoke. "I'm creating a pattern of intent for your father, dear. Trying to find his tick has been... quite frustrating. Once I did a little digging of my own, some of it began to come together. Your stepmother, Leila – beautiful, blonde hair, green eyes," she slid the first photo closer to Aurora.

"Your birthmother, who I am sorry to say is also gone. Heroin is a terrible drug," she tsked as she slid a photo of a young woman across before looking up sympathetically. "Poor thing was easy prey for Stefan Rose's promises of grandeur, according to your biological grandparents. I'm terribly apologetic that I couldn't convince them to talk to you, but they want nothing to do with this case..."

"It's... it's alright," Aurora whispered, dragging the photo closer. The woman was pretty but nondescript, with big green eyes and curly blonde hair. Sighing, she pushed the photo back. There wasn't a connection there – not that she'd wished for one until Leila had died. Leila had long been her mother, anyhow.

And there, Dr. Foley stopped. Looking expectantly at Aurora, she sat back and sipped her tea.

"And...?" Aurora motioned towards the file. "Two isn't a pattern."

Smirking a bit, Grace tilted her head at the young woman in consideration. "Yes, but three is. We can't use the third picture for evidence, as it was retrieved from Stefan Rose without a warrant," she chuckled. "The duty prosecutor is up in arms about it. From your hands to Miss Moore's to... ours, it would never be admissible. What makes it particularly surprising is that your father's associates still seek to get it back, even then."

Reaching forward, Aurora tapped her fingers lightly on the tabletop. "Can... can I see it?" She knew that the psychologist didn't really blame her for mucking up the dossier issue, though she had no idea that Maleficent had given it back to the police while they were in London. The black leatherette file poked out of Dr. Foley's bag like a snake waiting to strike.

The forensic psychologist gazed at Aurora in wonder. "You never looked before?"

Shaking her head, Aurora exhaled loudly. "I was scared to look, and then I had to run. After that, it was gone," she explained.

The elder woman's hand slid into the file and perused its contents, seeking one particular piece as the younger one explained. Finally, Grace Foley pulled out an image blown up from the original and slid it across to Aurora. Her face regarded the girl expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

Aurora's shaking hands picked up the photograph as her eyes drank in the scene. Her father was dancing with Maleficent – she was young, her eyes wide and somewhat surprised. They were in mid-spin when the photo was taken, the blue confection of a dress twirling around her legs in a blur. She was even wearing white opera gloves, her long fingers resting lightly over Stefan's grasping hold.

A sob bubbled up into Aurora's throat and escaped as her fingertip grazed over the girl's face. "She was so..."

"...Frightened," Grace mused. "He's not giving her the kindest face, is he? Rather like a nasty livestock auctioneer."

"Y-Yes," Aurora responded. "But he's not looking at her," she murmured. Her finger followed the gaze of her father in the photo to Maleficent's neck. The necklace she knew all too well rested on the edge of the girl's decolletage, but the large diamond pendant was blocked from view by her shoulder and raised arm while in hold. "Oh... Oh, my God," she stuttered.

The pieces of a puzzle fitting together in her mind, she remembered a fight between her father and some jewel merchant associate during a dinner party, long ago.

_The brash gentleman laughed at her father as they shared a private joke. "Well, if you hadn't let the little flower slip through your hands like a figment of our imaginations, you might not have ever needed to trade again. Ah, such the mystery," he snickered. _

_A Newsweek magazine passed between them on the table, much to her mother's chagrin. A beautiful necklace graced the cover – boasting one of the largest diamonds Aurora had ever seen. It seemed to twinkle even from the pages, fiery and earthy all at once. 'The Mystery of the Great Chrysanthemum Diamond: a Dynamic Enigma,' the headline had boasted. Nobody knew where the necklace was, and hadn't for some years apparently. _

_Stefan shoved the magazine back at the man in anger. "I was outbid. There was no slipping through my damned fingertips," he snapped, suddenly enraged. _

_The dinner guest was quiet, and thoughtful at her father's reaction. "Sure, you were outbid by Evelyn Moore. But when their estate was liquidated, the diamond wasn't there. It wasn't part of the itemized list of the LaFey estate that the Crown is holding for Lilith, either. Last thing we know is Sotheby's appraisal... Two flowers, gone right through your fingers. Poof!"_

_Her mother tapped her dinner plate with a fork before clearing her throat. "Please, this isn't appropriate dinner conversation, especially with the little one present," she requested, eyeing Aurora lovingly._

"The diamond. He wanted the diamond," Aurora sputtered, poking her finger harshly against the photo while relaying her memory to Dr. Foley. "Maleficent said... she said that her parents and my father argued about conflict diamonds. But, Evelyn Moore bought this one for Maleficent anyway, a gift for her birthday. He was second bidder, my father. I don't know why it didn't occur to me..."

"That she might have worn it on the night of her party?" Grace interrupted, grasping the photo from Aurora's hand and viewing it with awe. "Aurora... Aurora Rose. You're positively genius, dear. It's standard psychological transference. The necklace... the chain to choke..."

The psychologist tapped numbers rapidly into her cellular phone and rambled excitedly when it was answered. "Boyd! Boyd... Have Spencer get everything he can on the 1998 auction of the Great Chrysanthemum Diamond. Oh! Oh, and get every photograph you can of Lilith LaFey's birthday party. Every angle, every shot, all the photographers that were hired. We need a clear shot of the girl's neck."

Just as the call was ending, the front door to the cottage slammed shut. Aurora's thoughts about telling Dr. Foley the whereabouts of the necklace scattered as Maleficent stalked in, carrying bags of groceries directly into the kitchen. A grumbling Detective Constable Goodman followed her.

Grace viewed their arrival with a guarded smile. "Stella? Stella, if you could send Miss Moore back to us?" she called out.

The rattling sounds of a teacup and teaspoon echoed, along with the rustling of the grocery bags and muttering between the two women.

Finally, Maleficent entered the dining area with her tea, displeasure written all over her face at the Doctor's presence. She sat down next to Aurora, and stiffened once she saw the pictures laid out along with the dreamcatcher. "What is the meaning of this, Dr. Foley?" she groused impolitely, her tone clipped. "Stella is going to put the groceries away incorrectly."

"Don't deflect, Miss Moore. I've spent all morning with Miss Rose waiting for you," Grace chirruped. "Good thing I did, any how. Your... girlfriend is quite the astute woman."

"I know that Aurora is smart," Maleficent muttered at the doctor before giving Aurora a small grin. Her expression turned cold once more as she turned her gaze back to Dr. Foley. "I see you've come to torture me with your... evidence?"

"Torture? No! Oh my, no..." Grace's hand flew up to her chest in honest surprise. "I was simply puzzling out some things with Miss Rose," she explained while sliding the photos back into her briefcase. Once she'd put it back onto the floor, Grace looked knowingly at Maleficent. "Besides, I don't need to remind you of that evening to bring forth your memories. You've already begun to remember, haven't you?"

Maleficent's posture straightened beside Aurora, who regarded her with scrutiny. "You are?" the young woman whispered, her voice aching with sorrow at the revelation. "The nightmares..."

Shrugging quickly, Maleficent took a sip of her tea but did not answer. She hadn't wanted Aurora to know, owing her secrecy on the issue to the intense sadness that would infect the girl's words anytime the subject was brought up. She didn't want anything to poison the voice that should only sound joyful..always. Aurora deserved happiness.

"There's no use denying it, Miss Moore," Grace sighed. "We were worried when the two of you went off to London. The townsfolk we interviewed here described your behavior as erratic before your departure. When we conversed with the London police and issued an All Points Warning for you and Aurora, they zeroed in first on Shoreditch. The residents there described you being chased by a gentleman, who was later hospitalized – Lenny Brewster. A man in Stefan Rose's employ... who disappeared from the Barts Heath Royal London Hospital shortly thereafter," she tapped the table in a line as she described each of the situations, all the while chuckling at Maleficent. "You apparently beat him right good, my dear."

"Then, you two were seen entering your grandparents' trading firm, you exiting only to give the dossier that Mr. Rose's barrister had compiled to Miss Elsa Arandelle at Harrod's, and to drive back here. Aurora has told me that you refuse to sleep, and I can very clearly see that she's not exaggerating," the psychologist continued, clearly trying to get a rise out of the woman seated across the table.

At the mention of Elsa, Aurora bit her lip to stay quiet. She had so many questions, but the room was getting tense, like a powder keg ready to blow.

"I don't like being followed," Maleficent snapped at the doctor while crossing her arms.

"How does being followed make you feel?" Dr. Foley volleyed back quickly, meeting the agitated woman's icy glare head on.

Bursting upwards from the table, Maleficent's hand knocked over her tea cup. She paid it no mind, choosing instead to pace the small space. "Oh no, Dr. Foley. This is not some therapy session where you get to pick at my brain," she seethed.

Ever brave, Grace stood to follow the woman's pacing. "Miss Moore... I don't think you fully understand the seriousness of the situation. For lack of a better term, you're waking up from dissociative amnesia. It will only hurt you more if you deny your memories!"

"And what if I don't _want _to remember!?" Maleficent shouted, her arms pushing out from her sides in a defensive manner. A little ceramic egg teetered on a wall shelf that her hand knocked at, and fell to the floor with a smash.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was her heavy breathing, bordering on hyperventilation. Stella had walked rapidly into the room, only to be stopped by Grace's palm held up in a motion to stay.

Aurora blinked back tears from her seat. She wanted to run up and envelop Maleficent in a hug – to push away Dr. Foley and tell her to stop hurting her love. However grand the gesture would have been, she stayed put; guessing that Maleficent might not appreciate her touch at the moment, or that it might anger the doctor.

Grace had the same idea, holding her palms up in a surrendering motion to the tall woman who was bordering on hysteria. Relaxing her face, she began to speak in a low, hushed way. "All right now, all right. I just want to help you, Miss Moore," she cooed. "I don't want you to hurt yourself, or Aurora..."

"I would never hurt Aurora!" Maleficent interrupted, her eyes blazing with hurt.

"I know that," Dr. Foley murmured back, stepping forward a bit. "You just want to protect her, don't you? That's why you became a teacher, isn't that right? To protect children... How admirable," the psychologist supposed.

Her green eyes darting around the room, Maleficent straightened herself and cleared her throat. "I'm... I'm sorry," she said, her apology sounding more like a question than a statement.

Embarrassed, Aurora mused. She'd never seen Maleficent embarrassed. It made her heart ache.

Grace sighed in relief, stepping back once more. "You can have justice for that little girl inside you, Maleficent. You can protect her, and Aurora... and Aurora's little sister. Tara's only eight now, and with Stefan in Scotland. The duty prosecutor needs your testimony to arrest him. Help me keep them safe, _please_."

The watering of her eyes and trembling of her lips was in stark contrast to the wrath in Maleficent's eyes at the mention of Stefan's name. Huffing a bit, she tugged her clothes back into semblance even though they weren't wrinkled and looked at the floor. "What do I need to do?"

"It might be easier for you to remember if... We need to go to Sevenoaks," Dr. Foley whispered.

"All right," Maleficent replied, quiet as the breeze. She walked past the doctor with a stiff demeanor, purposefully avoiding Aurora's gaze.

That made Aurora's heart break.

* * *

The four and a half hour drive in Dr. Foley's unmarked police cruiser sounded about as good as a trip to the dentist, but Aurora wouldn't be convinced to stay at the cottage with another officer.

Eventually, the relative quiet in the car was punctuated by Maleficent's dozing snores. She'd jolt awake, seek Aurora's hand in the back seat to squeeze it tightly, only to be lulled back to sleep by the non-sequitur ramblings of Dr. Foley and DC Goodman as they drove. Aurora was sleepy too, but found her mind hyper aware due to the constant wake-jolt-squeeze-sleep cycle.

After an hour of that, she groaned mightily and reached for Maleficent's purse. "Please... Take a pill," she begged. "I'll be right here, I promise."

The sorry truth was that Aurora felt horribly guilty. She hid it well, but couldn't help thinking that life for Maleficent Moore would have been so much easier if she'd never disobeyed Stefan, or if he'd never dropped her on the steps of St. Augusta's. If she'd never walked into the Latin classroom, if she'd never danced in the woods that night, or dreamt of Maleficent.

If... or. If her father hadn't ever hurt the sweet woman that vibrated with the need to protect Aurora until her dying breath. Maleficent _could_ have ignored Aurora completely after the party in the woods. If only she hadn't burst into the bedroom that evening. It all sounded ridiculous – like it would never have happened that way. None of the opposite actions sounded remotely like the people that _could_ have done them, and yet... Aurora thought herself culpable.

Maleficent looked at her purse warily, but took it from Aurora's hands and dug through it to find the correct bottle. Swallowing a klonopin dry, she set the purse back down. Her eyes studied Aurora's form, lids becoming heavier by the second.

Aurora viewed it all with a sad smile of thanks for her lover not arguing. She reached out and tugged at the woman, laying Maleficent's head in her lap. Brushing her fingertips lightly through the tangled, multicolored mess that was so unlike the usual tidy mahogany hairstyles, she breathed a sigh of relief as the sounds of heavier snoring filled the cabin.

"Oh, thank God," Stella muttered from the front. "I was about to offer you a horse tranquilizer," she chuckled before her eyes suddenly became sad. "Poor woman. God, I apologize profusely Miss Rose..."

Aurora shook her head and gave the Detective Constable a smirk.

Underneath her hands, the snoring stopped. Maleficent wiggled a bit and began to mumble. "I can still _hear_ you. You can shove that horse tranquilizer right up your..."

Dr. Foley switched on the radio to a classical station swiftly, drowning out the remainder of Maleficent's reply as she glared good-naturedly at Stella.

The rest of the trip was uneventful except for a few jerking motions from Maleficent that were easily soothed by Aurora's gentle, wandering hands. Just as the summer sun began to set, the cruiser pulled up a long drive to the biggest house Aurora had ever seen. The sign out front had declared No Trespassing, and the iron gate swung on rusty hinges. It loomed darkly in the distance, and she resisted the urge to shrink into the seat like a frightened little girl.

As the car came to a halt and parked near the front door, Stella looked even more frightened than Aurora felt. "Please tell me they kept the electricity on so that the pipes didn't burst," she hoped aloud.

Maleficent must have felt the car slowing, because she sat up and viewed the house blearily. "They should have. It's managed by the Board of Directors, or some such thing," she answered with a yawn.

Out of the car they came, one at a time. Aurora kept a firm grasp on Maleficent's hand as they walked up the untidy stairs, weeds and brush growing through cracks in the cement. Stella wrestled with a police issue recorder, while Grace stayed behind them to study every reaction.

Maleficent pushed open the front doors, standing still after taking only two steps into the foyer. The detective constable pointed the recorder at her, taping the reaction of fear, and intense sadness.

Turning towards Aurora, Maleficent squeezed their joined hands and nodded up the curving stairway. "Stay down here. Please, Aurora... I only want Stella to come upstairs with me," she pleaded, expecting an argument.

"But why?" Aurora's shocked reply challenged the logic. "I told you, I'll be right here. That means _with you_."

A harshness fell over Maleficent's features as her brows furrowed in irritation. "Just... do as I say," she cut her off, motioning towards Stella as she walked to the stairs and ascended them quickly.

Maleficent's refusal of her company hurt. She walked around the dusty foyer forlornly, looking at the paintings and the hall tables with disinterest. A dead houseplant laid atop one, and she poked at the brittle leaves.

Behind her, there was a rustling of a nylon bag. Aurora turned to view Dr. Foley reaching into her fabric briefcase for a syringe, and winced as the woman tapped the bubbles out of it. "What's _that?_" she hissed.

Grace looked sadly at Aurora and then upwards towards the ceiling where footsteps could be heard stomping around. "The horse tranquilizer," she joked mirthlessly. "I won't use it unless I have to. I came prepared this morning, hoping that I could convince her to come here. The duty prosecutor has been warned by the Crown Court judge assigned to the case that it might be thrown out if we can't come up with something substantial, and soon."

"But, that's not fair!" Aurora sputtered, walking back towards the doctor. "They're pushing her too fast!"

Nodding her agreement, Grace capped the syringe and placed it back in her bag. "Yes, that's a fair assessment. But you're both in danger, Aurora... Very real danger. In order to keep you safe, my job is to support _her. _That, and present both her your father's psychoanalysis to the court. The healing process is never black and white," she reasoned. "It's better for her to remember with us around. Please trust me on that."

Aurora frowned, as she knew that the doctor's words were truthful, and looked around the foyer once more. Maleficent had told her about how she and her father, Lysander had danced here many a happy time when she was a child. It looked so bare and cold now.

As she walked a circle in the room, her arms swung back and forth. Aurora tried to imagine what it had looked like in all it's glory and warmth, filled with Maleficent's laughter. Her hand flipped a switch on the wall, illuminating a dusty, cobweb streaked chandelier. Closing her eyes, she began to spin around the space in dance movements she remembered from ballet classes as a child. If she tried hard enough, maybe the house would feel loved. Maybe it wouldn't feel so empty.

So engrossed in her dancing, she did not notice when Dr. Foley began to play the softest, beautifully mournful music from her phone into the silence. It felt rather like the house was speaking to her through song. 'I am lonely,' the house cried as the violin played. 'I am here,' the piano reassured the violin as she spun around, over and over. Hands stretched towards the ceiling as she arched her back during a particularly long pull of the violin's bow, her petite body becoming an extension of the emotions flowing through the air in the form of music.

A cool, clammy hand clasped hers as she spun near the stairs, and Aurora gasped in shock. Maleficent's tearful eyes stared at hers in rapt fascination.

"Don't stop, amare," she beseeched. "Dance with me?"

Aurora nodded, a bright smile spreading over her lips. It was contagious; Maleficent even managing a bittersweet mirror of it as she brought a hand to Aurora's back and nudged her back into motion. Around the room they moved, feet barely touching the marble floor as they held each others gaze.

The room began to disappear around them, and Aurora began to feel lightheaded. Perhaps she was overtired, or maybe she had made the revolution around the foyer one too many times, but she no longer cared. All that existed was the depth of the green eyes that looked so longingly at her, sparkling like peridots swirled with topaz in the luminescence of the chandelier.

"Are you still taping, Stella?" Grace whispered from the corner.

"Yes, but why? I don't see how it's relevant to the case..." the constable murmured back, caught up in the scene before her.

Grinning with pure joy, Dr. Grace Foley gestured towards the pair twirling around the room. "I may be a psychologist, Stella... But I am a romantic. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone that does not see that they just _fit_. Always document beauty in the world, Detective. It's so rarely seen."

The detective constable shifted her stance while pursing her lips. "Soulmates?"

The doctor shook her head and held up the phone that still played the music gently. "Fated love, if you will. Aurora Rose was born to love Maleficent Moore."

* * *

They lazed under the blankets at the hotel nearby, begging off the long drive back to Middlesbrough. Maleficent was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and Aurora had insisted that they would make their own way back in the morning. Of course, Dr. Foley and DC Goodman had insisted they stay with them, renting a room a few doors down. All were weary, and glad for the respite.

Aurora sat up and shrugged out of her clothes to lay back down, fitting herself into the valley between Maleficent's shoulder and neck as the woman's arm curled around her. She kissed the bare skin there, her lover having divested of her clothing long ago.

Maleficent had inhaled sharply when she kissed her collarbone, and Aurora looked upwards to make sure that she was alright.

The heated gaze that came from the eyes that stared back sent a shiver down her spine. Maleficent wriggled down to press their lips together softly, followed by more insistent kissing.

Aurora leaned back, sliding her hand up the woman's torso and pushing her away gently. "You're tired..." she implored. "You need to sleep."

"What I _need _is to feel something other than... this pain," Maleficent countered. "I need _you, _Aurora."

Pursing her lips, Aurora looked thoughtful. Her hand came up to cup Maleficent's cheekbone lovingly. "What do you dream of?" she wondered. "Not the nightmares... but good dreams?"

The answer was quick, and telling. "You."

Aurora laid her head back down as her fingertips traced light patterns onto her lover's stomach. "I dream of you, too. When... When I was still just your student, I had this _crazy sexy _dream," she laughed.

Goosebumps left a trail where Aurora had drawn lines that felt like fire curling in Maleficent's gut. "Tell me?"

Blushing furiously, the young woman laid her palm flat. "Um, there was a mirror. I could see myself, and you were behind me. And uhh..." Embarrassment crept up her neck along with the blush, but she felt the need to finish telling Maleficent about the dream. "You were touching me, and speaking Latin. Then, you asked me to touch you. Begged me, really."

A yawn, followed by the clearing of a throat. "What did I say?"

Thinking back, Aurora could barely remember the words, but the meaning was clear. "The one I recall the most is 'Diligunt me et te in conspectum.' Love thyself in..."

"View of me," Maleficent finished, hugging her closely. "How apt, considering there was a mirror. I can tell that you hadn't partaken of too many tutoring sessions yet. _Bad form,_" she whispered into the shell of the girl's ear.

"Don't tease!" Aurora groused.

Maleficent's arms loosened as she ran her palms up and down Aurora's back. "I assure you, amare. I would never tease you for that."

Her heart warming with the honesty in the words, Aurora kissed the skin closest to her again. This time, Maleficent turned towards her so that the next kisses laid over the curve of her breast.

The hands that had so innocently soothed the skin of Aurora's back a moment ago curled inwards and dragged sharp nails upwards, sending warmth rippling over her skin.

Pulling away again, Aurora sat up. The wounded look that took up residence on Maleficent's face had her explaining quickly. "No! No... I want you," she reassured the languid woman beneath her. "It's just... Quomodo 'make love,' Latine dicas?" _How do you say 'make love,' in Latin?_

An awed expression came over Maleficent then, her lips hanging open slightly for a few moments before they pressed together to stop them from trembling. "Volo amare te," she exhaled. "I want to make love to you."

Straddling her love's supine form, Aurora reached back to move the woman's hands to her hips before repeating the words back. "Volo amare te..." she appealed, her blue eyes yearning.

All that Maleficent could do as she viewed the beautiful creature atop her was choke out a strangled noise and nod once. The angel leaned down to pepper kisses sweetly across her face, followed by her neck. Shimmying down, her _stella ardens [1] _laid the lightest nips along her breasts before loving upon her peaking nipples, earning a breathy moan.

Aurora's eyes burned bright as a moonlit sky at the noise, and she moved down even further to lick and nip at the places she'd elicited gooseflesh from earlier, grazing fingernails along her hipbones. Her rosy lips came up from the skin to warn her, "I'm going to..."

"Yes?" Maleficent sighed, both a question and permission.

As those lips descended upon her most sensitive flesh, Maleficent could look no longer and threw her head back into the pillows with a gasp.

* * *

[1] Stella ardens – burning star, supernova (Latin.)


	16. MMIV (2004)

**A/N: Hi there readers! I truly hope that you enjoy this chapter today. I'm headed into oncology surgery in just a few short hours, and it might be a good week before I get back to writing. So, please leave me lots of constructive feedback in the meantime. I know where this tale is going – plot wise, story arc, etc. but if you'd like to know certain things or see certain scenes, let me know! Prompts are great exercises for a writer's mind. We're coming up on the court case very soon, and some Stefan scenes. **

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"When You Sleep," Mary Lambert (Part I) **

**"Understanding," Evanescence (Part I) **

**"Spark," Tori Amos (2004)**

**"Dragula," Rob Zombie (2004) **

**"Stay With Me," Hanna Trigwell (2004) **

**"The Kind," Flyleaf**

* * *

**Chapter 16 – MMIV (2004)**

* * *

"There, there, best to bring it all up,' she said.

My memory was in shreds.

Imagine a photograph cut into narrow strips then,

Jumbled up.

Everything is there,

but you can't see the whole picture

Even the strips have no bearing on reality.

I must have done something crazy.

I thought it would be a good idea,

to say something

and planned it for several seconds.

'She's all right,' I said.

'Who is?' asked the nurse.

-Alice Jamieson, "Today I'm Alice"

* * *

Aurora was warm. Safe, and protected, and... hot?

No matter, she decided. It was August, after all.

Wandering the space in her mind between dreams and wakefulness was a blissful retreat often denied as of late, so she relished in it. She wanted to stay here forever, and began to subconsciously beg her mind to stay asleep just a _little _bit longer. There wasn't anyone here but she and Maleficent; not the curious stares of the townsfolk as she and Detective Goodman visited the drug store to pick up brown hair dye, not her father or the worry of how Tara was faring with the cousins in Scotland, nor the impending violation of their tenuous privacy because of the court case.

The conscious part of her recognized the gentle swells of breasts as they brushed against her back, and the pressure of strong arms pulling her closer still. It was becoming stifling under the sheets, but she ignored it in favor of letting her lover's sleepy, whimpering breaths remind her of the evening before. Aurora's mind picked up on the request, and granted the memory swiftly, along with pleasant glimpses of related ones.

Maleficent's face flashed behind her eyes – that one she would make as she came apart; the stoic and dignified face screwed up into a silent scream as her long, brown hair splayed around her head on the pillow. The quick, panting breaths that slid over the woman's plump lips as Aurora's hand moved over slick flesh, fingers drenched in warmth. The bare, pale lips that said her name like a novena, chanting it over and over again.

The lips turned red, and spoke her name. _'Don't move, Aurora...'_ they whispered into her ear.

Aurora's nipples hardened at the memory of the words in her ear, and her brain warred with two corresponding memories. It flashed between the smell of earthy woods, and more recently when long fingers had wrapped themselves around her wrists and pulled them upwards sharply, eliciting a shiver and a moan. That had been an interesting night; Maleficent's eyes glittering as she bound her hands together and to the headboard with the satiny tie from a bathrobe.

She'd been jumpy that day, and snippy – a long, unsuccessful interview at the station offices with the detectives had left both the duty prosecutor on the case upset, and Maleficent even more so.

Still, a small smile curled on Aurora's lips in her sleepiness as she remembered the result of the bad mood. Control, it was always about control with her love. She'd gladly give it over to Maleficent if it meant that responsibility was no longer hers, but Aurora knew better.

Maleficent would never let her shirk duty, and had been elated when the scores for her A-Levels had finally arrived in the mail two days ago. She'd even picked her up by the waist and swung around the kitchen, crowing about like a proud hen. _'You can go to any university that you wish with these scores!' _Somehow, through all the stress going on, Aurora had managed to score A's across the board.

Aurora remembered the surprisingly deflating feeling in her heart at that, and pouted. Picking up quickly on the young woman's source of sadness, Maleficent had put her down and cupped her cheeks lovingly. _'Oh, my silly Beastie. Wherever you will go, I will go too.' _

For all of her idyllic musings, Aurora could not ignore the sharp bite of fingernails digging into her hip, or Maleficent's leg as it slid up and over hers. Her eyelids fluttered open in the early morning light, and she wriggled her bum back against the writhing. "Mmm, again?" she asked, a broad smile evident in her voice.

A groan answered her, echoing the silence. Then, the chattering of teeth.

Worried by that noise, Aurora wiggled away from the grasping hand and turned over. Brown hair was everywhere – tangled over Maleficent's face like she'd been tossing and turning all night. But, it looked damp. That wasn't right at all – she very clearly remembered it being blow dried after their shower last night.

A rasping cough broke through dry, nearly chapped lips. Maleficent's teeth clacked together once more, and Aurora realized why she'd been so warm all evening. Pressing a hand against what she now saw was a sweaty brow, she brushed the hair out of her lover's face. The skin that met her palm was burning hot.

"Jesus Christ," she said, worry dripping from the words. Aurora had warned her constantly about the effects of not sleeping, and all the stress they'd been under. It was a rare night when Maleficent could be coaxed into bed lately.

Thinking about where the thermometer could be kept, Aurora stumbled wearily into the bathroom to fish around in the cabinets. Minutes flew by as pills, cold remedies, bobby pins, hair ties, lipsticks, first aid supplies, and even a bottle of unused multivitamins fell into the sink as she clumsily searched. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Bumping noises of kitchen cabinets being opened and slammed shut startled her, and Aurora snapped the medicine cabinet shut. She rushed into the bedroom, only to be met with an empty bed and blankets half dragged off the bed and onto the floor.

The sound of glass shattering echoed from downstairs.

Flying down the stairwell, Aurora was met with the sight of a very nude, and seemingly lost woman standing in the middle of a pile of glass.

Maleficent's hand was held out from her side, blood dripping from a gash. "I just wanted some water," she said, as if wondering what had happened. Her green eyes were confounded.

Aurora grabbed the broom from the closet to sweep up the glass. As she did so, the bare legs and feet at the epicenter of the broken shards trembled. Looking up to Maleficent's face, she was uneasy at the expression she found.

Bewilderment. Pure, unadulterated confusion. Obviously uncomfortable, the woman moved weight from one foot to the other as an eyebrow raised. "I couldn't find the cups."

Shaking her head, Aurora chuckled nervously. "They're right where they always are, above the sink and to the right."

Licking at her dry lips, Maleficent merely nodded as if that was a logical answer. "Sorry. If I'd known I had company, I would have dressed," she eyed the beautiful blonde girl sweeping the small fragments of glass into a dustpan after she'd disposed of the larger pieces. Unfortunately, the sweeping had smeared the drops of red blood all over the tile floor in a dragging motion. It made her stomach clench.

Aurora's golden tresses dragged slowly over her bare shoulders as she turned to stare. She knew about febrile delirium from her studies, but had never actually seen it in person. It was frightening, but she knew that the best thing to do was act as if everything were normal. "Oh! You know me. It's alright."

Seemingly without care for the gash that still bled mightily, Maleficent put the hand on her hip and made quite the pose. Raising her eyebrows seductively, she smirked. "I _know _you, do I?"

"Um, yes. Of course you do; we've been dating for nearly two months now, Maleficent," Aurora choked out, becoming queasy at the sight of crimson dripping down the brunette's thigh like wax from a lit candle. "Can you just... Let's get you to the couch."

"What did you just call me?" Maleficent interrupted, her face suddenly furious. "Now I am _sure_ you don't know me. Why are you in my apartment? Why are my things moved around?"

_'Apartment,' _Aurora's mind puzzled out. Her lover had absolutely no idea where she was, or what year. That meant that her fever was above 41º [1] She needed to call for help, and quickly. The last thing she needed was for the detective parked outside to come in because an ambulance showed up, though. DS Spencer Jordan was on shift, and the man was by far Maleficent's least favorite 'babysitter.'

"Hey, okay. Look, I'm going to ring the hospital... for your hand. It might need stitches," she said pleadingly, hoping to distract Maleficent. Far taller and stronger than Aurora, if she got too agitated, it wouldn't end well.

"No._ No hospital,"_ Maleficent spat, her teeth clicking as a shiver overtook her body. Her feet took one step to the side, and then another. Edging around Aurora, she darted up the stairs without another word, scrambling with haste. Grunts of pain shot from her mouth as her injured hand slapped at the stair treads and balustrade, but escape she did.

Never so glad that she'd not put away her laundry from last night, Aurora shrugged a tee shirt and shorts on faster than lightning before grabbing the cordless phone from the kitchen wall. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the digits corresponding to the correct contact on her cell phone, which was upstairs with...

"07942," she whispered, her fingers smashing at the digits as she spoke. "904...129." The line began to ring, and Aurora's fingers drummed on the kitchen wall where she leaned. "Please, pick up. Pick up."

* * *

Standing outside at the top of the drive, Aurora fidgeted uneasily as she saw the blue pickup rumble towards the house. She hadn't known who to call but Elsa, and though Maleficent's erstwhile best friend sounded more than a little peeved to receive the summons, she had promised to come quickly. Having been outside for the better part of a half hour, she was hungry, sweaty, and scared. The sounds that had come from upstairs were loud, and jarring. It sounded like Maleficent was breaking things.

As the truck parked with an angry jerk, the lanky blonde teacher exited the cab. She lingered by the driver's side door after slamming it shut, and stared at the cottage like it held a pit of snakes. Nodding sharply towards Aurora, Elsa crossed her arms. "Well, I'm here," she muttered.

Stepping out of the passenger door with a hop, Ava slung a medical bag over one shoulder. "Don't be so damned bitter," she stage whispered. "It's my fault that you two ever fight."

She turned her attention towards the stressed girl that seemed ready to jump out of her skin. "Aurora," she greeted with forced politeness. "Where is she?"

Removing the fingers from her mouth that she'd been nibbling at, Aurora motioned towards the front door. "She's upstairs. Ava, I'm frightened…" she gulped. "She refuses to go to the hospital for her hand, and she's awfully feverish. Beyond confused..."

Without a word, Ava stepped forward and placed a supportive hand on the girl's trembling shoulder before slipping inside.

Blue eyes met their match as Elsa and Aurora stared at one another, both uncomfortable. The teacher that the teenager had been so close to besides Maleficent leaned against the side of her truck and sighed. "I'm sorry, kjæreste [2.] You must think me completely heartless for my behavior."

In response, Aurora shrugged and walked over to join Elsa. Resting against the vehicle, she raised her eyebrows in surprise at the tall woman who seemed entirely intent on staying outside. "I don't pretend to know everything, Elsa. She tells me so little about your… friendship. I had to practically drag anything out of you before, too." She crossed her arms when the stubborn woman only pressed her lips together more tightly.

"Damn it!" Aurora swore, stomping her foot onto the gravel in sudden, fierce anger. She was beginning to feel insecure, and the emotion stung. "I'm not a fucking kid! You're acting like it, though! Your friend is inside completely out of her mind, and sick!"

Elsa snorted and rolled her eyes, but didn't comment on the jab. "She always acts like a storlom [3] when she's sick. Mallie will be fine, you'll see." She sighed, and wiped a palm down her face at Aurora's disbelieving glare. "In order to understand why I am so angry, you would need to know things. _Scary_ things. _Private_ things. There's so many situations in life you've never experienced yet. Even if I told you, you wouldn't get it."

Every ounce of the petite eighteen year old beside her seemed to vibrate with resentment at Elsa's appraisal of her shortcomings. She'd been through hell and back with Maleficent in such a short time, and still she was being treated like someone that ought better be kept out of some sort of weird circle of trust.

"Try me," Aurora snarked, putting both hands on her hips.

A look of defeat came across Elsa's eyes, and she hung her head a bit. "As if you don't already know. Mallie has a strange way about her love, yeah? I always wondered why. Didn't you?"

Bare toes dug into the gravel, tracing patterns in an attempt to deflect. "So? Does it bother you?" Aurora reversed the question without having answered herself.

A sputtering laugh escaped Elsa's lips. "Bother me? No, no-" She shook her head as her mouth settled into a grim line. "Frustrate me, infuriate me? Make me want to rip my hair out? _Ja._"

She remembered Maleficent as she was, before time and a lot of patience on her part had mellowed the woman.

_"You're all I have, Elsa. You're the only one in the entire world who knows I even exist," _she'd said.

* * *

**Washington, D.C. - October 2004**

Maleficent had been asleep well into the evening. Illegally-gotten liquor was her prescription of choice when she was in a blue mood like this, but it was often hard to find someone of age in the States to buy it for the twenty year old when the clerks had begun to suspect her fake ID. The days when she took pills were the worst, and Elsa had half a mind to find whatever doctor was prescribing them and shove the "medication" right up their arses.

With a slam of the refrigerator door on a covered plate of uneaten dinner, Elsa grumbled to herself. She turned to scrub at the kitchen counter furiously. "Kvinnen er utakknemlig og lat. Jeg koker hele dagen, og hva får jeg? En pute kastet på hodet mitt," _She is such a lazy, ungrateful woman. I cook all day, and what do I get? A pillow thrown at my head._

Her roommate had seemed like a fun, wild ride at first – a taste at a new life well away from the droll and overly polite culture she'd been raised in. "Mallie" Moore had spotted her tacking up a flier in a bar downtown looking for a room and made her way over to Elsa, but not before decking a man coming onto her, splashing him with her drink, and grabbing two beers from a bartender with a wink. Her edgy look and confident mannerisms often made the tenders assume she was of age.

They'd spent most of the evening dancing, with little talk. The next afternoon, the eccentric and loud brunette had smoked near twenty cigarettes while they hashed out a rental agreement. She was lonely, and needed company; not so much the money. Elsa couldn't believe her luck. There had been something in those deep eyes that spoke of things hidden – something that she longed for, or longed to solve.

Six months, two awkward brushes with intimacy that had sent both women hiding in their rooms for days, and a hundred untouched dinners later, they'd become this odd pair.

Fast friends, it was a peculiar day that they did not share a cab to their different universities, even though it meant that one had to wake up earlier than the other. And yet, there were times that Elsa wanted to scream to the heavens for the way that Maleficent would shriek and call out at night, refusing to unlock her bedroom door. Times when the woman seemed on some sort of strange precipice, ready to jump. This month was apparently the worst for her, she'd said. October - the month her parents and grandparents died, leaving her alone in the world.

As if the thought of her bid the woman in a silent call, Maleficent appeared down the stairs. Dressed in a black dress that barely came below her rear, ripped fishnet stockings, and low slung boots, she turned her tear-stained eyes on Elsa's figure in the kitchen. She'd rimmed them in eyeliner thicker than ever before, perhaps an effort to hide the red puffiness.

Her ire rising quickly, Elsa took in the sight. "Where are you going dressed like that?" she sniped.

"Out," Maleficent responded curtly, grabbing a money clip to slide inside the edge of her bra.

"You didn't even go to class today. No dinner, again. You haven't even started that paper for your Adolescent Psychology course, and you said it's due in five days. Gud, woman," Elsa threw her hands up. "And now you go _out._"

A sly grin lit up red lips as Maleficent turned towards her. "I already wrote the paper in my mind." Clearing her throat, she spoke and made with a flourish of her hand. "Teenagers are fucked up in the head. The end."

"Ohh, I see," Elsa nodded with a smirk. "And how do you know this? Is there a reference to 'Teenagers, Fucked Up' in your assigned class reading?"

"No, I just know," Maleficent shrugged as she dug through a purse for a well-worn bar flier. She scribbled the address down on a smaller piece of paper ripped from a notebook. Elsa knew she had to remind herself often of landmarks and addresses, so the gesture didn't seem particularly odd.

"_Bad memory," she had chuckled when asked long ago, tapping her temple with an index finger. _

The indifference in her tone and actions rankled Elsa once more. "You were a _kid_ once, yes? Why even be a teacher if you hate children so much?"

The light and tinkling laugh that came from Maleficent was so obviously fake, she grinned sheepishly as an afterthought.

"Don't be ridiculous, Elsa. I was never a child," she said almost sadly. Turning to step out their front door before her roommate could respond, she called over her shoulder, "I'll be late - don't wait up for me!"

* * *

No matter how many times Mallie said 'I'll be late, don't wait up,' Elsa did any how. Washington was a big city, and some areas could be seedy.

When 2:00AM came and went without her returning home or even a phone call, Elsa had begun to pace. She took the tub of their Death by Chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and began to eat it straight from the carton with a spoon.

Nearly a pint of ice cream and two infomercials on television later, the clock glared 3:00AM. Still, nothing. "Faen," she swore, shoving the ice cream back into the refrigerator before tugging on her boots and throwing on a leather jacket. It was getting chilly outside, now autumn in this part of the United States.

Grabbing the plain looking white flier with black writing on it, Elsa searched for the address. 'The Crux' was located only a few blocks off the Red Line [4,] but she'd have to be quick in getting there. The last train to that part of town for the night was in fifteen minutes.

She ran to the train station a block from their apartment, and slid between the transport's door just before it launched towards M Street. It wasn't the best part of town, but it wasn't a slum either. That placated the worry that wrinkled Elsa's brow, but only slightly.

Especially when she arrived at the... club.

A female bouncer clad from head to toe in shiny vinyl took an indecent amount of money when Elsa's fake ID had raised an eyebrow at this 21+ establishment. She beckoned her inside with a salacious grin, and a promise that Elsa would have 'lots of fun.'

As she entered into the warehouse type club, a sea of teeming, writhing bodies on the dance floor met her view even though the bar had stopped pouring nearly an hour ago. That wasn't so much strange as the patrons' clothing, or lack thereof.

Squinting in the dim light, Elsa's eyes adjusted and her mouth fell open. "Oh. Oh, Gud," she whispered, the hair standing on the back of her neck.

Everywhere she looked, there was some sort of sexual display going on – whether on the dance floor, or in the shadows. Her stomach flip-flopped at the groups of people that she shrugged past; at the scenes of what she considered degradation. The only thing stopping her from running screaming from the establishment was the fact that Maleficent was here. The question was – where? She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know where.

She stood in one spot and spun around slowly, though she would rather the floor open up to swallow her whole. A blush began to rise up her neck rapidly, and she gulped.

As she searched the immediate area, a hand came up to tap her on the shoulder. Elsa turned around with a gasp. "W-what? No, no..." she began to prattle on queasily. "I'm just looking for a friend."

"Who?" a redhead dressed in little more than a thong and boots purred into her ear.

"Um, Mallie. Her name is Mallie, and uh..." Elsa stuttered.

The woman grinned and nodded, motioning in a come hither way with her fingers while sashaying towards a back room. "I wondered why she didn't want to play," the vixen pouted as she shouted over the pounding music. "Didn't know she had a girlfriend!"

"Friend! I'm a friend!" Elsa protested, and waved the woman on. The sooner she could find said friend, the sooner they could leave.

As they walked through to the next room, it took all of the blonde's intestinal fortitude not to turn around and march back out. People lined the walls, watching a demonstration of knotwork on a woman in the center, her arms wrenched up and behind her head in a painful manner. The redhead tugged on Elsa's arm to lead her away from the spectacle, depositing her against the far wall before walking away.

Turning her gaze away from the center of the room, Elsa's eyes fell onto a mess of mahogany hair and empty eyes leaned up against the wall. Recognition barely lit them, and a shiver passed over the woman's skin, soaked in a cold sweat.

Sliding along the wall, Elsa's hand found Maleficent's, and she squeezed to gain her attention. "What the _hell!_" she hissed.

Maleficent didn't respond, turning her face towards the display once more. She didn't react much to that, either. Her movements were slow, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

"Jesus, did you take drugs or something?" Elsa spat, tugging on her friend's hand again.

That elicited a lazy shrug. "Fuck you and your high horse, Elsa," she slurred.

Grabbing Maleficent around the waist, Elsa pulled the stumbling woman from the room with a ferocity she hadn't known before. "No, fuck you," she sputtered. "We're going home, now!"

* * *

They'd argued the entire cab ride home, Elsa's sober wit matching Maleficent's dark curses back and forth. It continued into the apartment, both kicking off their shoes to take their bickering into the living room.

"All this time, I thought you were just uncomfortable with sex!" Elsa shouted. "You say you're lonely. You want love, ja? That's not love, Mallie!"

Stomping her way upstairs with her friend hot on her heels, Maleficent yelled right back. "I know that, because real love doesn't fucking exist!"

The statement stunned the blonde into pausing on the stairs, and Maleficent took the opportunity to snarl and slam her bedroom door shut.

"That's it!" Elsa screeched, walking into her room. Tossing a duffel onto her bed, she stuffed a few changes of clothes and her toiletries inside. She had to escape this craziness before it ate her alive. Resolving to come back for the rest later, she jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen where their keys hung, and reached for her pair while tossing her bag towards the front door.

The gleam of the liquor bottles on the counter taunted her.

Slamming her keys back down, she walked to the sink. Unscrewing every single bottle she found, Elsa poured it all down the drain. It was swiftly followed by entire bottles of Maleficent's pills, and the rush of hot water.

In her anger, she even made sure to flip the switch on the garbage disposal. A glimmer of pleasure passed through her icy blue eyes as the sink made horrible grinding noises, and she sighed. If her friend insisted on killing her own soul, Elsa wanted to make sure the tools of the trade were long gone before she left.

Unfortunately, the loud grinding also drew the attention of the woman that had been upstairs.

Maleficent stood at the doorway of their galley kitchen, her chest heaving in what looked like pure shock. "What did you do-" she whispered, almost a prayer. "-No, no, _no!" _she cried, seeing the empty prescription and liquor bottles that littered the counter space. After scrambling towards the sink and turning off the disposal, her hands laid flat as if in silent mourning.

Elsa slunk towards the door, her hand reaching for the duffle that laid on the carpet. Glittering jade and olive eyes followed, sliding along with her movements.

"God damn it, I said no!" Maleficent shouted at the top of her lungs, hurling the bag away from them and back into the living room. Her lipstick had smeared sometime in the past ten minutes, like she'd meant to remove it but gave up halfway through. Underneath that, her lips trembled and sucked in a quick jolt of air. "I said no," she said again, so quiet it could have been the breeze. A single tear fell over her sharp cheekbones.

The sight very nearly broke Elsa's heart. "I can't keep living like this, Mallie," she murmured. "I can't stand here and just watch you die a little bit more every day."

Maleficent clasped her hand into Elsa's, gripping tightly. "Please stay. Please? I'll do whatever you need. I can't be alone anymore, not now. Especially not now," she begged. "You're all I have, Elsa. _You're the only one in the entire world who knows I even exist._"

Something about her typically brazen friend turned to a shivering mess over the prospect of her simply moving out crumbled what was left of Elsa's resolve. "I'll stay..." she began slowly, and Mallie began to relax minutely. "I'll stay if you go to class-"

"Done."

"Stop interrupting me. You have to eat, damn it. No more drinking. No more drugs. No more _whatever that was," _Elsa set her guidelines.

Nodding her assent, Maleficent seemed to sag in fatigue.

_'Come off the edge, back away. You don't want to jump. Not today,' _Elsa thought silently. Reaching out to pull her friend into a hug, she embraced the woman even more firmly when she felt her quivering.

"I hate you so much right now," Maleficent mumbled into her shoulder.

"I love you, too," she mumbled back, squeezing her arms once more for good measure.

* * *

1 41º C is 106º F, typically the temperature that febrile delirium/confusion begins.

2 Kjæreste – (Norwegian, pronounced jaerl-steh) Sweetheart, sweetie.

3 Storlom - (Norwegian, pronounced stoor-luhm) A loon, a crazy person.

4 Red Line – Washington DC's rapid transport train line.


	17. Omnes Enim Vos (All For You)

**A/N: Hello there, readers! Thanks so much for your fantastic input during my little vacation. Just a simple warning for this chapter: Herein there be smut of the intensely descriptive sort. This chapter is rated very heavily M. **

**As always, your feedback and reviews are what keep me writing. If you like what you see, and would like more, please leave a note. It makes me so happy to hear how readers are taking the story, and I take all constructive criticism with equal love. **

**Chapter Soundtrack: **

**"Bones," MS MR**

**"Paperdoll," Kittie**

**"Haunted," Poe**

**"Shatter Me," Lindsey Stirling feat. Lzzy Hale**

* * *

**Chapter 17: "Omnes Enim Vos (All For You)"**

* * *

"I wanted the past to go away, I wanted  
to leave it, like another country; I wanted  
my life to close, and open  
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song  
where it falls  
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;  
I wanted  
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,

whoever I was, I was

alive  
for a little while."

\- Mary Oliver, _Dream Work_

* * *

"_-_and that was the first time I tried to move out," Elsa exhaled in a rush, the sadness in her voice belying the fact that she truly wasn't sorry.

Aurora knew that. If Elsa Arandelle were sorry for anything, she'd be inside helping Ava. She'd have answered Maleficent's calls. She would... do something. It wasn't as if she expected Elsa to ignore the sense of betrayal after learning about Maleficent's past, but the woman's description of her lover _stung._ She wasn't quite sure why.

She leaned away from the teacher and didn't respond, but continued to kick at the gravel. The once lazy, gentle tracing of her toes had turned into full on thrusts of her foot, spraying the tiny pebbles everywhere with each motion.

Another crash sounded from the cottage, followed by Ava and Maleficent's shouting.

"Don't you think we should go inside and _help?_" Aurora ground out the last bit as she made two steps towards the front door.

As Elsa's hand shot out to grasp Aurora's wrist and tug back, the front door opened and shut with a slam.

Ava stood on the outside, her arms splayed as if she could contain whatever was inside. Her lip was bleeding, and it appeared as if she'd taken quite the hit. Despite that, the curvy, short brunette laughed.

"What in the worl-" Elsa began to walk towards the door, but Ava shooed her back towards the truck.

"Do you have _any _idea how long we've waited to have a sincere reason to knock at each other? I found it rather enjoyable," she shrugged with a wincing smile. Stepping away from the door, Ava righted her scrub shirt into semblance and looked up the drive as if expecting someone to arrive. "Well, do you two want the good news or the bad news first?"

"There's good news?" Aurora scoffed, crossing her arms at the sight before her. "Who won?"

The medic ran a hand through her hair and fixed her ponytail before meeting Elsa's eyes, and then Aurora's. "I'd say you could call it a stalemate at this point. The good news is that she remembers me," she chuckled while pointing to her fat lip. "The bad news is... I'm sorry, you two. That's a whole lot of mess in there. She won't get into a cool shower, or let me give her a shot of Ofirmev. [1] I can't handle it alone, so I-"

"She remembers _you_?" Aurora interrupted, her voice small and pained.

Ava's face was apologetic as she moved from one foot to the other and reached a hand out tentatively. It fell short when the teenager skittered just out of reach. "Oh, honey. She remembers that she hates me, that's all. And by the end of the day, I can assure you that she'll despise me even more."

Elsa's brows furrowed as she shoved off the side of the truck to hug Ava to her side. "Even if that were possible," she frowned, "Why? I could always get her to calm down before..."

The wail of an ambulance siren cresting over the hill had all three of them covering their ears in quick succession. It drove down the highway, only pausing at the entrance of the property to converse with an irate DS Spencer Jordan. He was making quite a scene of his importance by blocking the drive.

Aurora spun around and jabbed an accusatory finger in Ava's direction. "You called them! She said she didn't want to go to the hospital!"

The paramedic put both of her hands on her hips and glared in response. "Aurora Rose, sometimes you have to do what is best for the people you love. You called us for help, and help is here," she yelled over the racket.

Faster than Aurora could protest, two male medics had a stretcher rumbling down the gravel driveway and had entered the house, Ava following.

"Don't I have a say in this?" Aurora screamed, tugging at her hair. The emotions she'd managed to keep in check all morning burst forth. "Don't her wishes matter?"

Elsa's powerful hands gripped at her forearms, pulling her into a hug. Aurora fought it mightily for a few moments, but where she was petite, the physical education teacher was decidedly not. Balling up her fists, she hit ineffectually at the woman's chest, while her ears registered a smattering of Norwegian and English words meant to calm her. Finally giving in when her pummeling did nothing to move the arms that tugged and squeezed with each word, she cried bitterly into the shoulder nearest her face.

The front door to the cottage banged open, and Aurora's face turned to look.

Turning her body to block the sight, Elsa's hands tangled in the girl's blonde waves and yanked her head back down. "Ikke se, lille. [2] Don't look," she begged her. "You know what Mallie would want. She would not want you to see this."

"I don't care!" Aurora wept as she heard the medics rolling the gurney past. "Stop! Let me go!"

Even Elsa startled at the profound howl of anguish that echoed through their surroundings.

Aurora knew the sound well, and clammed up with a hiccoughing sob. Her mind whirled back to the day when that very same pain had escaped her own lips.

_Rage, fear, and powerlessness taunted her. _

_A fresh stream of tears dripped from her stinging eyes. _

_As reality hit, and the feeling of the loss she would now suffer struck her, and a__ wail of grief escaped from the depths of her being._

* * *

Fatigue lined the lilac-blue eyes that stared mulishly down at the sterile hospital floor. Aurora tried to ignore what was going on around her, and stifled a yawn behind a palm as she sat in what was probably the most uncomfortable chair known to mankind.

After tearing away from Elsa's grasp and accosting DS Jordan to follow the ambulance, time had moved in slow motion. The man's serious scowl hadn't even deterred her from her mission, and he'd eventually relented. To her, it was imperative to stay with Maleficent. She feared that if she let the white and blue medical transport out of her sight that her lover might disappear with it, too.

Of course, Elsa and Ava had followed in the truck. They'd tried to get her to drink some awful vending machine coffee after waiting for six hours for an update, but her glare had said all she meant to without words.

They stood off to the side of the waiting room now, whispering between themselves while gesturing at Aurora every so often. It made her seethe; their plaintive, sorry faces. She wasn't some wilting flower, or a baby that needed coddling.

A staff nurse entered the waiting room, recognizable instantly by her pale blue scrubs. Her hand swiped at the tablet in her hand as her eyes scanned the crowd. "Miss Elsa Arandelle, for Maleficent Moore?" she called out.

Elsa pulled away from Ava then, just as Aurora shot up from her seat to scurry over.

The nurse had guided Elsa into a small consultation room, and shut the door with a pointed look at both Aurora and Ava. "Excuse us," she requested with professional firmness.

A strangled noise caught in Aurora's throat as she stepped back from the door. Shaking her head, she looked to Ava for guidance.

"Welcome to my life," Ava drawled sarcastically, crossing her arms for good measure. "Don't let it bother you."

"Elsa is Maleficent's health care proxy..." Aurora mumbled, rubbing at her forehead in irritation. "I don't know why I didn't see that one coming."

Ava slung an arm around Aurora's shoulders and pulled her back to the seats to wait some more. As they sat down, her eyes searched the younger woman's, and she slid her hand into a trembling one. "Hey, it's not all that bad," she cooed, aware that she'd upset Aurora with her snark. "They just have to let her know what's going on."

"She said Maleficent always acts like this when she's sick," Aurora whispered, at a loss of what else to say.

Sighing as she rubbed a finger over the girl's palm, Ava shook her head. "I've seen Mallie sick before. She can get confused, but not that pissed off. Of course, I've never seen her under so much stress, either. You weren't there before. For all I know, between Elsa and I checking in with phone calls and dropping off soup, she could have been. I doubt it, though."

Aurora hid behind a veil of her golden blonde hair, embarrassment creeping up her cheeks in a warm blush. "I did this, you mean."

The finger caressing her hand pulled away and she felt the sharp sting of a pinch. "Oww!" she yelped, turning to face the older brunette once more.

"You stop that right now," Ava glowered, testier than Aurora had ever seen her. "Don't you dare blame yourself for that woman starving herself and not sleeping. You didn't do this; _your father did this._ She's killing herself to protect you from him. I have no idea how you tamed that harridan but... everything she does is for you, Aurora."

The door to the consultation room jerked open, with the Elsa and the nurse motioning for them to follow. The remainder of their conversation would have to wait, but all Aurora could think about on the way down the winding hallways to Observatory Care was how Ava was wrong. She didn't feel worth all of this trouble, and the guilt that had plagued her in London settled in her gut with a vengeance. So engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't fully comprehend when the rest of the group had come to a stop in front of a room. Only Elsa's now gentle grasp had stopped her from continuing on down the brightly lit corridor.

The bright smile that lit the teacher's face seemed all wrong, and Aurora looked quizzically at her.

"She's awake now. They put her down with a bit of Versed [3] for a few hours until they got the fever under control, but she's... how do you English say it - right as rain? Or she will be, once she stops asking for you," Elsa informed her as she guided Aurora through the door.

Not waiting for another word, Aurora hurried to the bedside. Without thinking, her hands pulled back at the covers tucked underneath Maleficent's sleeping face to make sure that the woman wasn't a mirage. Mouth contorting with barely contained rage, she removed the velcro restraints that bound her lover's wrists to the bedside. "What did they do to you?" she mumbled incoherently, tears making her vision blurry.

"Ahh – Miss Rose? Please, if you could stop that-" the nurse requested from behind her.

Maleficent's eyes opened at the sound of that name, and her hands lifted from the mattress to grasp at whatever she could. They found Aurora's wrist, and she nearly pulled the young woman into the bed with her. "Aurora?" she pleaded, hoping that the glorious sight before her eyes wasn't just another hallucination.

Aurora sat down gingerly, folding her hand into Maleficent's. She kissed at the bandage that separated their palms before leaning down and kissing the lips that had so lovingly requested her.

* * *

"And then what happened?" Dr. Grace Foley crossed her legs elegantly and leaned away from her notes.

Maleficent froze, her eyes cautious. "I'm not quite sure I understand what this has to do with the case."

Grace had invited her back to the station to discuss more details before they went after Stefan Rose formally. The Crown had put out an All Points Warning to the commonwealth police bureaus, but that was no guarantee that they could nail him down in time. The duty prosecutor wasn't happy with her testimony thus far, and the internally fractious woman knew it.

"Maleficent… I can call you Maleficent at this point, yes?" Grace began in her tender, motherly voice she knew often broke Miss Moore's walls down.

At a terse nod from the brunette across the table, she continued. "We need to be prepared for what the defense is going to utilize against you during cross examination. You were brought to James Cook Hospital five days ago for delirium, and from the records we were able to obtain, it poses a question of credibility. They will use this against you. I need to know-"

Suddenly agitated, Maleficent reached down to her purse to bring out a pack of cigarettes and tapped them loudly on the table to interrupt the forensic psychologist. "You want to know if I've gone down the rabbit hole," she muttered.

Picking up her pen once more, Grace leaned forward with the most understanding look she could muster. "Have you?"

Not answering the question directly, Maleficent pointedly ignored the signs requesting 'No Smoking' in the interview room and lit a cigarette. "Do you want to know what I thought when I came to, Dr. Foley? While surrounded by an angry friend, her nosey girlfriend, and the light of my heart while half naked and bound to a damned hospital bed?"

She tsked under her breath, more so for finding herself in the situation at all. Ashing her cigarette onto the floor, she took another puff and blew it out harshly. "I've always prided myself on being the strong one. Sure, I had some wild days in my youth," she glided over the terrible first year that she and Elsa had lived together, surprised at how it came to mind so clearly. "You'll not find any craziness on my part ever since I came back to teach at St. Augusta's. But as I woke up that day, all I could focus on was Aurora's eyes. Those beautiful eyes - puffy, red, and crying."

Maleficent took two more drags of her cigarette in quick succession, testing to see if the doctor would interject. Satisfied when the older woman simply waited with a pleasant, knowing smile, she went on. "I knew I'd gotten sick. It happens when I get feverish."

Nodding to herself, Dr. Foley scribbled some into her file. "That's not unusual in your situation, I can assure you," she murmured soothingly.

Irritated at being pigeon holed into a statistic, Maleficent shook her head. "That may be so, but for the first time, I actually cared. And I thought to myself: how shattered am I? How can I protect her - she, who is my everything?"

The cold, gray room seemed to echo her sharp breaths as she leaned back and cupped a hand around a sharp cheekbone in thought. Dr. Foley continued to make notations, but peered up every so often to see if Maleficent would continue to speak.

After a few minutes of silence to gather themselves, Grace broke the quiet first. "You know what you have to do, Maleficent," she encouraged.

"No," Maleficent declared coldly, gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles whitened.

Dr. Foley tilted her head, seemingly deep in thought. She slid a laptop over, moving her files to do so. Opening the computer screen up, she typed for a few minutes before peering over the top edge in challenge. "Last week won't be all they use against you, Maleficent. They'll request everything from your past, and use it brutally and without care for you during cross examination. You'll need to be able to defend yourself."

Maleficent seemed to ponder this, her eyebrow raising as she stared at the back of the laptop. "And what would frighten me so badly that I'd go falling apart on the stand?" she retorted. "What barrel of snakes do you have there, Dr. Foley?"

Grace clicked play on the video evidence she'd requested while preparing the case and spun the laptop to face Maleficent. Picking up her pen once more, she waited patiently for the woman's reactions.

Green eyes widened in shock, and never fully relaxed. Maleficent's fingernails began to tap on her leg in a calming rhythm as she watched. Every few seconds, she'd look back up at the doctor to see if she would stop the video. Dr. Foley sat firm, her face determined.

A disembodied voice off screen recorded the time and date. _"19:30, 20__th__ January 1999. Patient Name: Lilith Maleficent LaFey. Hello there, Lilith. I'm Dr. Thorne..." _the man carried on before moving in front of the screen to sit next to a girl curled up against the farthest edge of a hospital bed. _"Do you remember me?" _

The closer the doctor moved on screen, the more tightly the girl with tangled, knotted blonde hair clasped her arms around trembling, knobby knees. _"Now, now... There's no need to be afraid," _he soothed, motioning for a nurse to unfold the girl's arms.

After a few moments, the nurse succeeded in doing just that. She pushed down on the knees that knocked together, and tucked them under a sheet with a reassuring pat. The fourteen year old's eyes stared off at the wall, refusing to look at either person in the room.

Dr. Thorne moved back into view, clicking on a small light in his hand before shining it between both green eyes. The girl's hand flew up to slap at the light, and it flew from the doctor's hand with a clank.

"_Good! That's a girl... Tell me how you really feel, hmm?" _he prodded. Met only with silence, he spoke to the nurse. _"Pupillary response normal. I think we can narrow out any damage from the asphyxia. No, this is good old disassociation; watch now." _

The nurse turned curiously towards the doctor who crouched just out of reach of the girl. _"I know why you won't talk," _he chuckled jovially. _"I forgot, silly me! You kept telling the doctors at Sevenoaks Hospital that your name is Mallie. How could I forget such a pretty name?"_

Awareness came to the teenager's eyes as she turned her face towards the doctor. _"I don't know," _she whispered.

"Stop it," Maleficent ordered, pushing the laptop back at Grace forcefully. "This is ridiculous. They'd have to be crueler than the devil himself to use this!" she hissed, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. She brushed an errant tear from her cheek and looked at the clock. "Are we nearly done for today? I'd like to go home."

Grace sighed in defeat, pulling the laptop aside. She didn't stop the video evidence just yet. "They'll be even more cruel in any attempt to discredit your testimony, I can assure you. You can go for now, but I'll need you back here tomorrow; 11:00?"

"Duly noted," Maleficent murmured, standing up to crush her barely smoked cigarette onto the floor until it was a mess of shredded paper and tobacco. As she walked towards the interview room door, Dr. Thorne's voice made her pause.

"_Where is Lilith, Mallie? I'd sure like to talk to her." _

"_**Safe,"**_ Maleficent intoned harshly over the girl's timid response, her shoulders hunching slightly. The recall earned a double-take from Grace.

With a crisp inclination of her head at the surprised psychologist, Maleficent strode out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

It wasn't until her heels had clicked rapidly to the car and she had slid inside that her hands flew to her face, muffling the sounds of her crying. Whimpers slid past lips in full disobedience of the woman who controlled them, and one of Maleficent's hands came away from her face to slap at the steering wheel over and over.

* * *

By the time Maleficent had calmed herself down enough to drive and make her way home, the chime on her phone's Reminder app alerted her that she was late. For the past four days, Aurora had made sure that they both sat down to supper at 6:00 at the latest. She had even set warnings at other times during the day, their titles deceptively cheery.

One of Maleficent's favorites was 1:15PM – a xylophone going up and down the musical scale in a goofy way paired with _"Meds! I'm waaaatching youuuuu XD."_ It captured the caring quality of her lover, as well as her joie-de-vivre; never failing to elicit a snort of humor from the typically solemn woman. If she suspected that Aurora was trying to overcompensate for something, she'd never voice it aloud. The looks of pure and radiant happiness that poured from the girl's bright face at the mere swallow of a pill was too addictive. She wanted to bathe in those smiles.

However cute that alarm was, the mealtime alerts were serious. Even tea-time was relegated it's own tone. She'd just missed the supper one, and Aurora would not be pleased.

At 6:24PM, she crept out of the car and shut the door gingerly before shuffling through the gravel to the cottage's front door. Wincing at the tell-tale squeak as she opened it and stepped through, she quickly shrugged off her heels beneath the coat tree. They'd wait until later.

The smells of cooking filled the cozy home, but the one person she expected to be waiting with bells on was nowhere in sight. "Aurora?" she solicited softly.

"In here!" a nervous peep came from the kitchen.

Making her way into the small foyer and through to the kitchen, Maleficent looked around. Every surface she passed was devoid of dust and smelled of lemon polish. Pictures that had been crooked this morning were righted, and gleamed in cleanliness from the walls.

Once at the table, she raised an eyebrow at the tiny woman who bobbed around the kitchen. "Busy bee today, hmm?"

"Oh, you know," Aurora blushed, running her hand through hair that had been obviously curled. It framed her face, deliciously wild.

Licking her lips for that sight and not so much the supper that steamed from the dinner plate, Maleficent sat down anyhow. "And what is this?" she asked pointedly, looking at what appeared to be a blob of orange-goo covered tater tots. For all of Aurora's talents, cooking was decidedly not one. She'd managed to gulp down whatever her amare had cooked thus far, but tonight looked to be a challenge in disguise. The placemat across from hers was suspiciously empty. "Where's yours?"

"I already ate!" came Aurora's trilling reply as she scurried towards the stairs. "Cheesy Tatertot Casserole. Yum," she grinned.

"Eat up while I take care of some stuff upstairs." Jogging lithely up the treads, she spared one last look at Maleficent's dumbfounded stare before disappearing from sight.

Maleficent poked at the casserole, her lips pursing in skepticism when the concoction bounced back after being prodded down with a fork. Taking a small bite, she instantly regretted it.

"Mmph!" she groaned, slapping a hand to her mouth. Sliding the chair back to stand, she grabbed the offending plate and marched to the sink to scrape the supper down the disposal, eyes darting around for any sign of Aurora's return. Satisfied that whatever was upstairs was currently occupying her, she spat the food in her mouth into the sink for good measure and began to wash her dish.

"Finished already?" a seductive purr rolled over her shoulder.

Before spinning to face the sneaky blonde who had somehow wandered downstairs unseen, Maleficent dropped the plate into the sink with a clatter. "Oh, ehm. Yes..."

Aurora's blue eyes sparkled. "Do you want more?"

"No, no," Maleficent interjected, trying not to be obvious. "I'm so full, I couldn't eat another bite."

"Really? Hmm, that's a shame," Aurora teased. "Here I thought you would want dessert..."

Not having seen anything remotely resembling 'dessert,' Maleficent's eyes wandered the kitchen counters. "You baked?" she questioned cautiously.

Snickering while rolling her eyes, Aurora shrugged off the edges of the silky nightrobe she'd purloined from the closet earlier. As the cool air hit her chest, she felt her nipples tighten in response and mustered the best smoldering look of wantonness she could before peering through her eyelashes at her lover.

"Oh, thank God," Maleficent murmured before descending upon Aurora with kisses, peppering the giggling face. Reaching to cup the much shorter woman's rear through the satiny fabric required her to lean down, and her lips found purchase on the expanse of bare skin between neck and shoulder. Here she dragged her teeth lightly over the thudding pulse-point, relishing in the pink marks left behind and the mewling that had begun to fill the air. "Upstairs?" she exhaled, nuzzling her face into the golden curls that seemed to be everywhere.

"Yes," Aurora sighed, sliding the nightrobe off completely before tackling the buttons on her love's shirt.

A throaty chuckle came from the brunette then as she removed the roving hands from her clothing. "In a rush?"

Pouting, Aurora began up the stairs. "I just... missed you," she said, strangely sad.

The emotion that laced her amare's voice had Maleficent swooping her up and into her arms. "I've missed you too," she reassured before continuing upwards.

Nudging the bedroom door open with her foot, she placed Aurora gently atop the bed before leaning back to unbutton her shirt and skirt, sliding them off with ease. The image before her was one that she wanted to remember forever: Aurora digged a heel into the bed to slide upwards, her arms thrown lazily across a halo of blonde curls that glimmered in the candlelight. The stealthy little Beastie must have lit them when she came up here earlier.

Shining white teeth bit exquisitely at a rose-glossed lip, and the woman's eyes deepened to a darker shade of blue with lust as Maleficent removed her undergarments. The curvy swells of her breasts rose and fell with each shuddering breath she took, and even her hips jutted upwards to reveal a bare cleft of dusky skin, glistening already with anticipation.

That did not go unnoticed, whatsoever. "You-" Maleficent began, her voice deep with need.

"Mm-hmm," Aurora replied while still biting at her lip, throwing a leg wide in invitation.

Needing no further request, Maleficent glided her way up the sheets with a passionate stare. She lowered her mouth to the heated flesh and dragged her tongue from top to bottom, savoring it slowly. The legs framing her face opened even wider as Aurora pushed downwards, attempting to find a source of friction.

"More," she moaned. "Oh God, more."

Smirking momentarily against the girl's center, Maleficent obliged. Her tongue went deeper, laving the sweet tasting nectar while one hand curled around a soft thigh to hold it still. The other hand rested against the pearl that had swelled lusciously with her ministrations, and her fingers began to rub in a circular motion. Aurora's hands flew to her hair, tugging and twisting the mahogany strands to draw her in.

The sounds that were coming from the writhing blonde were music to her ears, and she basked in each and every moan, sigh, and whine. The leg she'd clasped close to steady herself was becoming slick with perspiration, and Maleficent alternated between the object of her desire and the dewy thigh, placing nips here and there.

"Malle..." Aurora groaned, pulling harshly against her hair again. "Stop teasing. Harder," she requested breathily. "I know you want to."

Slipping away to sit up, Maleficent raised an eyebrow. "Do I, now?"

Puffing a breath out in exasperation, Aurora sat up as well. "I want you to... be you. Whatever you have to give," she danced around the subject, knowing that pushing too hard would force her to reveal what she had learned earlier in the week. It wasn't that she hadn't suspected long ago; they'd often played at the darker themes of lovemaking ever since the beginning.

Maleficent seemed to ponder this, pursing her lips as her eyes hardened. "Turn over," she commanded.

Aurora complied, rolling onto her stomach. Once she did, she felt the weight of her lover nestle over her rear, and very nearly moaned aloud at the feeling of wetness against her skin that accompanied the motion.

Pulling her hands up and behind her neck, Maleficent laced the fingers together. "You have no idea what you're asking, and still you ask it," she muttered darkly.

"I do," Aurora protested, muffled slightly by the pillows.

"You're not ready," the woman atop her hissed into her ear. "I could hurt you. I _never _want to hurt you."

Tossing her head side to side underneath her clasped hands, Aurora stubbornly insisted. "You won't."

"I don't know what's gotten into you..." Maleficent groused, slight irritation in her voice warring with excitement. Shimmying down, she slapped lightly at Aurora's thighs. "Spread, and don't move. You don't do anything without my permission, understand?"

"Nothing?" Aurora squeaked while widening her legs.

A sinful smile spread across Maleficent's lips at the sound. "We'll go easy tonight. Let's see how long you can obey. I'd wager not long, because you're a foolishly naughty little beast." One hand snaked into Aurora's curls and pulled the girl's head back roughly. "Don't come until I say so," she blew into the shell of a delicate ear, delighted with the blush that reddened it when she did so.

Aurora's heavy breaths filled the silence as Maleficent raked her other hand down the pristine lines of the young woman's back, satisfied when pink welts rose in the wake of her nails. When Aurora yelped at the action, she paused. "Did that hurt?"

"No," the obstinate woman beneath her fibbed, her lips quivering.

"You're a terrible liar, Aurora. Don't ever tell me it doesn't hurt when it does," Maleficent warned.

Shaking her head against the steady grip on her hair, Aurora sighed. "It hurt, but I liked it. I'm not a fucking porcelain doll," she swore. Her neck objected at that, but she was steadfast.

A heavy hand spanked the right globe of her bum. "Such a filthy mouth," her lover mused, a darkness blanketing her tone. Was that jealousy? "I wonder who else has had the distinct pleasure of hearing you curse like that..."

"O-Only you," Aurora stuttered, her reply turning into a keening as Maleficent's fingers swiftly entered her from behind. "Ahh! Fuck!"

True to her word, her lover took her to the edge of pain and back many times over. She'd set a blistering pace meant to taunt Aurora into failing, and her blue eyes screwed shut in fierce determination. Crying out helped, but only slightly. As two fingers became three, she found herself panting and calling down the heavens.

The addition of pressure against her sensitive nub only increased her pleasure, and Aurora found herself scrunched up to the headboard, her forehead knocking at the wood with each thrust. It kept her mind away from the swirling warmth that teased her lower abdomen, and she grit her teeth and hissed through them in a vain attempt to hold it off. Several times over the course of what seemed like forever, Maleficent asked her if she gave up. Each time, she growled her dissent.

At long last, Maleficent released her hold on Aurora's hair and laid her weight fully down. "Demitte,"[4] she ordered, her own voice raspy.

Aurora didn't recall her lover shouting anything that would have caused the tightness to her tone, but the warm breath against her ear sent a shiver down her spine. She felt a sharp jolt of pain near her neck, and it took her mind a few moments to catch up. Maleficent was biting her, harder than ever before.

Between the command, the pleasure of fullness below, and the strength of the woman's teeth and sucking lips on her neck, Aurora fell apart. Inhaling deeply, she screamed so loud it brought tears to her eyes. Confusion flooded them for a moment at the strange release, but her lungs continued their primal shrieking.

_This._ This is what it felt like to be at someone's complete mercy, and to love every moment of it.

Before she comprehended it, Maleficent had turned her over and was soothing the bite with her tongue. It burned, and Aurora's eyelids fluttered as she moaned at the fleetingly light touches, so different than the rough love they had just made. Her hands wandered the planes of Maleficent's shoulders and collarbone, but they were quickly snatched away from the tantalizing skin.

"No," Maleficent blurted out, curling Aurora into an embrace as she tucked the sheet around them.

Deciding that she'd pushed far enough for the evening, Aurora snuggled so that her face rested where her hands had wanted to go. "Okay," she huffed, still out of breath.

An infinitely tender kiss was pressed to the edge of her forehead, just beneath her hair. Harsh exhalations came from her love's mouth as her hands traced delicate patterns over Aurora's arms.

It only took minutes for Aurora to drift off. Just as she did, she heard Maleficent whispering.

"I... I love you, _so much. _I don't deserve you."

Though her mind returned the declaration, Aurora's lips had long fallen silent. The inky blackness of slumber overtook her before she could utter a single word.

* * *

A well appointed man and his entourage paced the length of the Ryanair hangar at Edinburgh Airport. Taking his place in line, he waited impatiently to pass through boarding security.

His cold, calculating glare examined the immediate area, judging those he considered beneath him. He would have much preferred to take a private flight, but it had been suggested by his newest barrister to get lost in the masses to avoid arrest. Security agents for commercial flights were less scrutinizing, and there might be a chance at advancing undetected to make the flight to Bordeaux, France.

When they were two passengers away from the front of the line, uniformed constables began to lead an array of darkly suited women and gentlemen towards them.

Stefan coughed low under his breath and made eye contact with his bodyguards before slipping under the barrier to walk brusquely away. As his two men followed, the lead constable shouted.

"Stefan Rose! Mr. Stefan Rose, stop right there!" he pointed at the group headed away from International Boarding.

As the men began to run, Stefan couldn't help but swear. Turning his face towards Lenny while they raced down the corridor, he motioned with a jerk of his chin. "Do what needs to be done," he grunted.

Lenny nodded in response, turning down a side hallway and jogging down a flight of stairs. The interference earned more yelling from the agents and constables hot on their heels. Their commander barked out orders to follow Stefan at all cost.

A shrill police whistle blew, alerting those blocking their advance to move out of the way. "Stefan Rose, halt in the name of the law! You are under arrest!" an agent yelled. "Do not resist, sir... Scotland Yard is outside!"

Winded from his posh lifestyle and futile attempt at escape, Stefan realized how this was going to end. He could either be taken into custody with his dignity intact, or the police very well might encumber him with force.

Stopping dead in the middle of the hangar, he turned to face the progressing crowd of law enforcement with a broad grin, and held his hands aloft.

"_Dead bitch_," he snarled internally.

* * *

1 Ofirmev – Injectable acetaminophen concentrate, used as an analgesic and fever reducer for quick results.

2 "Ikke se, lille," - (Norwegian) "Don't watch, little one."

3 Versed – (Midazolam) A commonly used drug, utilized for light sedation.

4\. "Demitte," - (Latin) "Let go."


	18. Neutiquam Mortuus (I'm Not Really Dead)

** A/N: Before reading this chapter, I must warn you that there are somewhat graphic depictions of violence ahead. Readers' discretion is advised.**

**I also beg mercy from angry mobs carrying pitchforks. This chapter is not the end of the tale, so be aware before reading on. Okay? Okay. **

**Reviews are the truth and the light, even if you wish to call a thousand curses upon my head while leaving one. I'd totally understand.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"The Mariner's Revenge Song," by Vitamin String Quartet**

**"Crucify," by Tori Amos**

**"Mad World," Jasmine Thompson**

**"Daddy," by Jewel**

**"Make Me Pay," by Kyla LaGrange**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Neutiquam Mortuus (I'm Not Really Dead)**

* * *

"The fact is that we have no way of knowing

if the person who we _think _we are is at the core of our being.

Are you a decent girl with the potential to someday become an evil monster,

or are you an evil monster that thinks it's a decent girl?

And you would say: "Wouldn't I _know _which one I was?"

Good God, no. The lies we tell other people

are nothing compared to the lies we tell ourselves."

_\- Derek Landy_

* * *

Mornings were never Aurora's forte, so it was not surprising that this day found her sitting slumped over the kitchen table, her blonde waves spilled over the wood like a curtain. With her face pressed against the blessedly cool table, she looked as if she were still sleeping. Her eyelids fluttered at the idyllic feeling of fingers stroking through her hair, and a smile quirked her lips.

"You should make some coffee," Maleficent's sleep-weary voice broke through the silence. Her hand slowed its journey through a particularly tangled golden curl, and rested against the curve between Aurora's head and neck.

Looking down at yesterday's paper once more, she knew that any further attempt at reading it was futile. Even she was exhausted this morning, although she had no idea why. They had gone to bed early, and snored their way through a better part of the summer evening. "I could-" a yawn interrupted her speaking. "I could even make it."

Aurora sat up at that, the hand soothing her falling gently to the table between them. She gave a gimlet eye towards the revealingly tired woman next to her and frowned. "No... No, I should do it. You made your tea before I was even out of the bathroom, and -"

A throaty chuckle cut the rambling off. "I am quite capable of boiling water and nibbling a biscuit or two on my own, amare, I assure you," Maleficent smirked. Breathing in slowly, she reached up and cupped Aurora's cheek. "I don't do much of anything these days. Allow me something."

"You... do things!" Aurora protested. She scrambled out of her chair and over to the coffee maker to grasp at the glass carafe. Waving it in triumph, she turned to the sink and began to fill it with water. At Maleficent's irritated snort, she stuck her tongue playfully through her lips, but did not turn around.

It _was _true that Maleficent did things. Most days she drove back and forth to Middlesbrough city center from 11:00 AM to around 5:00 PM, to be poked and prodded by Dr. Foley and the duty prosecutor until thoroughly exhausted, cantankerous, or both. Some nights, she typed at her laptop with an angry fervor and swore about another independent consult job declined her. She had wanted to translate per diem, but even that fell through once she sent her credentials through.

"_I swear to God," she had hissed while snapping the laptop shut two nights prior. "They see my name, and I'm done for. Will I never work again? I can't just sit around and collect dust like a damned-"_

"_No aspirations for early retirement?" Aurora had cheeked. _

_She giggled when Maleficent glared. "Oh, don't be like that. Give it some time..."_

Time. It stretched out before them like a strange, unknown variable. How long would this period of their lives take? How much longer could they stand it? Cruel in its refusal to give answers, time was currently an enemy. Aurora just wanted it to be over – if her father simply turned himself in, and admitted to his crimes, then she and Maleficent could move on with their future. Of course, he would _never _do that.

Aurora had never given much thought to her father's duplicity and nature growing up other than to call him every foul name she knew in her mind. He ordered their lives around what was proper, no matter the cost of money or expenditure of personnel. Should his way of using people as expendable investments have clued her in? Perhaps if she'd payed closer attention, she thought – maybe if she had been less focused on how his eccentricities affected her life, she might have seen him for the snake he was.

Looking back on it, she realized thinking like that was foolish. Her father had always been so cool towards her, detached even. He'd only ever cared when her actions brought "rumor to their door," or "shame to the family." Punishments had been served just as cold. Just pure, calculated manipulation.

Though, what he considered bad behavior on her behalf would have probably been considered normal by every other parent – right?

Every teenage girl thought their father the devil, didn't they?

**_Didn't they?_**

A pale hand slid down her arm to curl around where hers gripped the handle of the coffee carafe, and the warmth of a tall, soft body pressed against her back.

"Aurora," Maleficent whispered, sounding worried. "You've run the water for minutes."

"S-Sorry," she mumbled, reaching forward to shut off the tap.

Still, Maleficent did not move.

"Give me this," she said under her breath while tugging the carafe from Aurora's grasp. Once it had been relinquished, Maleficent turned and poured the nearly overflowing container of water into the coffee maker.

"Go and watch some telly," she motioned towards the living room with a jerk of her chin, and smiled indulgently. "Your head is in the clouds today."

Aurora huffed and rolled her eyes. "You hate the telly."

Pursing her lips together in amusement, Maleficent turned towards the short blonde. "I like to rot my brain every so often," she disagreed. "Yours doesn't seem to be in residence, so no harm done."

A shocked noise fell from Aurora's lips, and she poked a finger lightly into her girlfriend's arm. "Don't be _mean!_" she chided, snickering all the while.

The shrill ring from Maleficent's iPhone jolted both out of their repartee, and the caller ID flashed _E. Arandelle._

It was followed immediately by pounding at the front door, and Detective Constable Stella Goodman's shouting.

"Miss Moore, Miss Rose! Let me in, _now!_" she called out.

* * *

"I _despise _the telly," Maleficent groaned, pressing a cold washcloth to her eyes.

She was cocooned beneath her favorite throw on the couch, and Aurora nearly wondered aloud how the woman could stand the summer heat beneath it before remembering the comfort the stupid blanket had brought her only a few months ago. It had been hot that day, too.

Stella Goodman sat on the loveseat with Aurora, fidgeting nervously with her police issued cell phone and looking back and forth from the device to the television. "I'm so sorry, ladies. It broke before we could contain it – such a huge commotion was made at the airport. Before we knew it..."

As the prim gentleman news anchor began speaking, Stella's voice trailed off.

"_This is the BBC, and a special news report," _he announced, and Maleficent snidely copied his posh accent from within her cable-knit cave.

"Shh-t!" Aurora hissed, focusing back on the news report. Her father's face was shown in profile, grinning like he always did. Next to it was a grainy shot of him exiting Edinburgh Airport in handcuffs, his face laughingly happy as the constables and Scotland Yard agents around him glared.

The anchor looked at what Aurora assumed was the teleprompter offscreen, and began to read. _"__We have it on good authority that the arrest of millionaire gem broker Stefan Rose is in direct connection to the story that we reported just a few short weeks ago, viewers: the development in the fifteen year old cold case murders of philanthropist Lysander LaFey, Hermia Christopoulos, and popular socialites and gem brokers Paul Christopoulos and Evelyn Moore."_

Once he'd broken that piece of information, the television changed from showing the news anchor to a video of Aurora's father being taken into HM Prison Holme House's holding building in Stockton-on-Tees. A crowd of photographers and news agencies swarmed around the darkly suited agents that led Stefan Rose along from the car and into the building, shouting questions and cameras flashing.

"_Described as a flight risk, Mr. Rose was remanded by Scotland Yard and transported directly back to England during the night. We learned today that he is to be charged not only with the murders, but with other crimes related that have yet to be released by the Crown. Mr. Rose stated his innocence to news reporters..."_

As Aurora gulped her now-cold coffee down and stared teary-eyed at the screen, the report switched to a video showing her father answering the many questions being lobbed at him by reporters.

It was difficult for him to respond in anything but a shout in the din of police yelling for the reporters to stay back, but he seemed almost... mournful as he did so. _"__Of course I didn't do this! Lysander and Hermia were my dear friends – and their poor daughter who suffered so deeply at the hands of the vile criminal who did this is being manipulated by police to think I am culpable." _

The swarming reporters asked Stefan if he kept in contact with the woman in question, buying into his false sympathy and wanting a personal aspect to the story. Looking straight at the cameras, he adopted an expression of sadness. "_Maleficent Moore and I fell out of contact for a number of years, but recently made her acquaintance again. It was so heartwarming when we did..." _he recalled almost whimsically. "_Why would I have done this to her – to her family? She cares for my daughter deeply, and was her teacher. They reside together in..."_

The television snapped off then, Aurora's hand slamming the remote down onto the table. Her lips trembled, and an angry sob tore through them.

"How long have they had that steaming load of bullshit on?" Maleficent questioned coldly, removing the washcloth while emerging from the blanket. Her movements were controlled – too controlled. She was trying to hold it together, and it was obvious.

"For two hours or so... They're repeating the news report every thirty minutes. The unit and Crown have been asked for statements, but we're holding firm until the prosecution can come up with a proper news conference approved by legal," Stella responded cautiously. "He's named you, specifically. That alone is extremely worrisome to us. You'd only ever been referred to as your old name by the gossip rags."

Maleficent's cell phone rang again from the kitchen table, and she stalked towards it. Her feet slapped heavily against the wood floors, and her shoulders were stiff. Once she saw who it was, she hit ignore and looked purposefully towards Aurora. "If Elsa calls again, would you-"

"I'll handle it," Aurora answered quickly, grabbing her coffee cup and walking into the kitchen as well. "She's probably just worried."

"We're all disturbed by what's going on," Detective Goodman assured from her seat while shaking her head full of short auburn hair. "Spencer is stationed with a few other squad cars just up the drive to keep the lurking vultures at bay. They will descend soon enough," she muttered, crossing her arms in distaste for the entire situation.

The cottage's landline rang then, startling all three women. In all the months that Aurora had lived here, she'd only heard it ring a handful of times, and she looked at it in confusion. Those who knew Maleficent best always called her cell phone.

Stella and Maleficent met each other's eyes, seemingly sharing an uncomfortable acknowledgment of what they knew was occurring.

Reaching towards the ringing phone, Maleficent scowled. Her hand took it smoothly off of the cradle and pressed 'Answer' before bringing the handset up to her ear. "Hello?" she greeted, her tone devoid of emotion.

Aurora watched as Maleficent listened to whomever was on the other end, a streaming burble of indecipherable words emitting from the phone. She shifted from one foot to the other and began to wring her hands as her love's own stance became more rigid as the seconds wore on. By the time half a minute had gone by, Maleficent appeared to be carved from stone, and her eyes were furious. Finally, the voice carrying on stopped, the tone ending in what sounded like a question.

"No comment," Maleficent answered smoothly, in stark contrast to the picture of rage that she was embodying.

She ended the call then, not bothering to wait for a reply. Rather than replacing the handset onto the wall mount, she threw it into the garbage pail beside the kitchen island. Taking a step towards the wall, she grasped the frame of the phone cradle between both hands and yanked it from the sheetrock with one swift tug.

Unable to control herself, Aurora gasped. Her heart began to race as Maleficent proceeded to pull the landline straight out from jack, the plastic casing on the connector snapping.

Maleficent's shoulders had jerked slightly at her gasp, but she didn't turn to face Aurora. Once she had thrown the tangled mess of wire and phone base into the trash with a growl, she stomped her way up the stairs.

"Oh, Miss Moore..." Stella whispered in a hush, reaching towards the retreating figure. The detective didn't move, but looked towards Aurora when there was no answer but the slam of the bedroom door upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, Aurora wiped the edges of her eyes where tears had begun to gather and settled her face back into calm. The day had started out with such promise, and it had gone to hell in a handbasket so fast. Her father's words echoed in her mind – the vile lies he spewed forth so easily. She _wanted _to cry.

Instead, she turned towards Detective Goodman and held her chin high. "Tea or coffee, Stella?"

* * *

Stella was right.

Mere hours after Maleficent had laid back down, DS Spencer Jordan and a few local constables struggled to keep the crowd of news vans and photographers from coming any closer to the cottage than the property line.

The constant racket of their shouts and questions was impossible to avoid, which resulted in the heat and tension inside the cottage rising steadily.

Unable to open any doors or windows, Aurora located the thermostat that controlled a very old and clunky central air unit. The air that blew through the registers was stale, and while she knew that the filter needed to be hosed down outside, the ability to do even that had been taken away.

Detective Goodman had braved the mass of humanity outside to get dinner from town, claiming that simply ordering out wasn't safe or wise. She had just arrived back, carrying bags of Chinese food.

Staring in awe at the three huge paper bags filled to the brim, Aurora sputtered a laugh. "Are you planning on feeding the reporters, too?"

Stella shook her head with a smile. "No, sweet heart," she chuckled. "This is enough for a few days – which is about the time those assholes outside will last if we stay cooped up like hens. They'll bore themselves out, eventually. Just ignore what they say in the meantime, okay?"

Aurora dug through the bags to set the food aside, working with Stella in companionable silence. Once done, she searched the takeout containers for what she needed. "Did you get anything vegetarian?"

"Vegetarian?" Stella drawled, scrunching up her nose in mild disgust. "Uh, I guess the vegetable lo mein would be a safe bet?"

Nodding her approval, Aurora grabbed the proffered container from the detective's hand and took a fork from the drainboard. "I'll just take this upstairs," she motioned with the fork towards the ceiling.

A softness came to Stella's eyes as she regarded Miss Rose in this moment. The young woman hadn't eaten a stitch of food today that she knew of, and yet she was taking food upstairs for the one person that probably wanted it least. Still, she didn't voice her opinion on that matter – Miss Moore needed her strength, and if the Rose girl could force her to eat, then so be it. What she did express was far simpler, and what she thought the girl might need to bolster some self-confidence.

"You are a kind and gentle soul," she bumped a shoulder gently against Aurora's. "Your own father was arrested this morning, and yet you take care of her first."

Surprised by the praise, Aurora shrugged and gave the older woman a timid smile. "Maleficent... um," she sighed, "Maleficent protected me from my father. The least I can do is the same, right? I mean, I couldn't _before_, so..."

Stella's appraising stare and quirked eyebrow at her rambling made her feel uncomfortably shy, and she clamped her mouth shut.

"Is that all?" the detective teased. "You care for her because of some strange sense of duty?"

She'd been there when Maleficent Moore had danced with Aurora Rose at the dilapidated mansion weeks before, and hadn't been blind to the fact that the two shared a room at the hotel. Being a police officer trained to nose out every facet of evidence, Stella was a curious sort. She hadn't understood why the two loved each other, even though Dr. Foley seemed to. The more time she spent with the pair, the detective was beginning to understand. Still, it was amusing to poke fun with the young blonde who seemed at moments stronger than granite and at others softer than a lamb.

When Maleficent exploded, Aurora absorbed the shock like a barrier. When Aurora rose to the occasion or was stubborn, Maleficent was alternately relieved and amused.

The creak of the stairs brought her attention back to the present, and she saw a blur of denim and bare feet sneak up the stairs and out of sight. The vegetable lo mein had gone with her, and the beef and broccoli carton was missing from the counter top as well.

"Cagey little miss," Stella tsked.

* * *

By day five of their self-imposed house arrest, Aurora was nearly crawling out of her skin.

Even though the Crown prosecution team had issued a press statement at the Middlesbrough city police station, it had done little to draw the peculiar conglomeration of citizens, reporters, photographers, and police that lined the causeway just past the gravel drive.

Dr. Foley had stopped in yesterday to check on them, giving the warm regards to Maleficent sent from several colleagues and nuns from the school that she'd interviewed for the upcoming case. The psychologist had stood a respectable distance from the open bedroom door when she did so, staring off into the distance rather than at the sheet and blanket clad woman who refused to be moved from her bed. She looked then to Aurora while reminding Maleficent to eat, rest, and stay calm.

Maleficent had offered a weak whisper of thanks before rolling over to curl into a ball.

For her part, Aurora nodded her understanding as the benevolent doctor had shown herself back downstairs, and out to her unmarked car.

It had been their first night without Stella there since the arrest, and the cottage seemed oddly empty without her cheery disposition. Maleficent poked through her food with thinly veiled distaste at the action of eating before shoving it away. Not bothering to argue, Aurora had laid herself into the space around her lover, cold with the large amount of space behind her and unused to not being held. It felt all wrong, and she tossed and turned the entire night.

Now awake and thoroughly caffeinated, she buzzed around the cottage to clean things already spotless while keeping an ear on the television's reports. The latest gossip was that she was staying here under duress, as if Maleficent could hold the daughter of Stefan Rose hostage. The talking heads argued over this, welcoming lawyers and barristers to comment on the legality of it, all the while blathering on about the inappropriateness. They seemed to view Aurora as some kind of bargaining chip, and supposed that she would be summoned by both sides to testify.

Dear God, she hoped not.

The hall clock chimed ten times, and she huffed a piece of her hair out of her face. Placing the broom she'd been using to dust the imaginary cobwebs from the ceilings against the wall, Aurora wandered into the kitchen.

Once she'd brewed a cup of tea, she tiptoed upstairs and walked into the bedroom. Sliding the cup and saucer quietly onto the bedside table, she tried to ignore the two pill bottles that were atop it.

"Mal," she spoke softly, sitting down to slide a hand lovingly over the pile of blankets and up to the tangled mahogany hair. "It's ten o'clock in the morning."

A single green eye opened and peeked out from above the pillows. From beneath the sheets, a gravelly voice replied simply. "Amare..."

"D'you want to get up and shower?" Aurora questioned while working a knot out of her love's hair. At least, that's what she'd been trying to do when she suddenly found herself snatched beneath the blankets.

It was dark, but Maleficent's frown could be heard. "I'd much rather stay here with you," she coaxed.

Aurora wiggled out of her grasp, and rolled to the floor with a huff. "You can't lay in bed all day _again_." She'd landed on a leather composition book, and winced as she removed it from beneath her knee. "Here's your journal."

Maleficent's pale hand shot forth to snatch it from hers. Placing the book aside, she gave an apologetic half-smile and placed the teacup on top.

The action was all Aurora needed to get the message: don't touch. She felt a stab of irrational jealousy for the inanimate object, and stood up.

Sitting up in bed, Maleficent began to sip her tea. "What have you been up to all morning, filling out university applications?" she mumbled over the edge of the cup.

The request nearly sent Aurora over the edge. Did her lover have any idea what they were saying about them on television? Did she even care? This wasn't a time to talk about university, for god's sakes. It wasn't that she didn't want a future, but that she couldn't see it clearly at the end of all that was happening. Aurora's mind was in the here and now, intensely bothered by the gossip and the looming possibility of testifying as the news had speculated.

She knew that Maleficent was ignoring what was going on to a certain extent as a coping mechanism, and tried not to be angry. She tried not to be resentful at the once loving arms that would fall heavily across her at night time. Drugged beyond comprehension for days, Maleficent was incapable of much else other than snoring. Aurora understood that it was illogical to be aggravated with the woman who had cared so deeply for her, but being cooped up wasn't helping. It also didn't help that she felt intrinsically deserving of the misery; after all, it had been her presence that had messed Maleficent's life up like a roving tornado.

However much Aurora knew all these things, and no matter how kind and sweet she was, she was young and ill equipped to express her distress properly. Her heart screamed at her to stop; to be nice, and think before she spoke. Thinking was a bad idea, though: her mind screamed its malcontent at being trapped inside. The adrenaline coursing through her veins from watching the telly was saying this was a time for fight or flight, and she refused to leave Maleficent. Rather than doing that unspeakable thing, she lashed out.

"I'll do the damned applications when I feel like it," she hissed, making her way out of the room and back down the stairs. Her eyes blurred with tears at Maleficent's stern voice calling her name, but she ignored it.

Just as she was about to descend fully, a knock came from the front door. She stumbled down the last tread, and twisted her ankle.

"Fffffffffffff-" Aurora nearly swore, and limped towards the foyer. The doorbell rang, and she grit her teeth at the person's impatience. "Coming! I'm coming!"

Tugging the door open, she was surprised to see Dr. Foley again. The typically over polite woman had a huge scowl on her face. "Aurora... Just the person I need to see. May I come in?"

"Of course, Doctor," she hobbled out of the way and motioned her arm in a welcoming gesture. What in the world had made Grace so upset? If she had to guess, it was probably what was upsetting her too.

"I can't stay long," Dr. Foley began, not removing her shoes as she stepped inside and closed the door. "Well, we can't stay long. Your father wants to see you – and refuses to speak with prosecution until he does," she spat. "He's attempting to manipulate the situation from within, Aurora. I cannot warn you how imperative it is to allow him the small victory so that we can get a better read on him. He might become clumsy with his answers if you push him enough."

Aurora's mouth hung open, and now she well and truly wanted to scream. "I- uhh," she mumbled, her breathing becoming rapid.

Without warning, Maleficent swept into the foyer. Fully dressed but without makeup and her hair thrown into a twisted mess of a bun, it was evident that she had rushed. She must have overheard the knocking, which meant that she had indeed heard what Grace had asked. "Absolutely not!" she fumed, her eyes enraged at the proposition. "Aurora, tell her _no._"

Being told what to do when she felt so out of control made Aurora explode into a diatribe as she spun towards Maleficent. Her ankle turned, and the pain made the anger burn even hotter. "Damn it, I'd go anywhere right now to escape this... hell! If only for a moment!"

Maleficent reeled back as if she'd been slapped, and her lower lip shook before she pressed both together. "But-"

"No, no!" Aurora interrupted, tugging on a pair of flats with a wince. "You don't get to make decisions like this for me! I want to go."

It wasn't so much that she was trying to break free from Maleficent's guiding force, but there was no other way that her lover would let her go except to make this stand. She wanted answers, and there was one man who could give them to her. Obstinately steadfast in her decision, Aurora took her purse from the hanging rack.

The purse beside it was taken down seconds later, and Maleficent swung it over her shoulder with a sharpness that told what she felt about the decision.

"Then I'm going with you."

* * *

Whatever Aurora had imagined a prison was like, this wasn't it. The inside of Holme House was huge, eerily quiet, and painted a sterile white.

After being led through countless security checkpoints and being patted down numerous times by staff, their motley crew followed a guard towards a private visiting cell.

It had a room off to the side for observation with what appeared to be a double sided mirror, and Grace entered it with a nod towards the man that had led them here.

"You don't have to do this, amare," Maleficent begged in one last effort, slipping a hand into hers with a squeeze. "_Please_, Aurora."

Her lover's strength had been whittled by stress so much that the voice wavered as she beseeched Aurora, and it twisted something deep inside of her heart.

"Yes, I do," she blurted out, squeezing the hand back before going through an odd buzzing door with the jailor. _For us._

Aurora did not look back. She knew if she did that Maleficent's green eyes would be filled with tears, and then she would lose her courage.

Behind a glass window sat her father, his shackled hands resting on the white desk-like ledge that ran along the bottom. Along a seam in the glass hung a red corded phone, their only means to hear one another.

A folded metal chair grated along the concrete floor as the guard slid it towards her, and she accepted it with a grateful smile. There wasn't any need to expend her anger on that man.

She turned to the one whom she planned to lay the brunt of it on, and sat down.

Stefan's cold stare met her own, and Aurora picked up the telephone on her side and held it to her ear. Her father followed suit, and they sat without speaking for an indeterminable amount of time. He wanted to see her – not truly the other way around – and if he wanted it so badly, he could talk first.

Finally, he did. "Hello, daughter."

It was just as short and chilling as the emotions in his eyes, and Aurora's gut rolled. "Hello," she replied.

The man who had hurt Maleficent beyond belief was merely inches away through glass, and she wanted the barrier removed. She wanted him to feel pain, and the realization set her on edge.

But then, this was also the man who had clothed and fed her – the man who had patted her head before bed each night. When she was a child, Aurora had longed for a kiss goodnight, or even a hug.

Her heart warred with the conflicting versions of Stefan Rose, but one side eventually won – the side that shivered revulsion up and down her spine.

Noticing the shiver, Stefan sat forward and tilted his head in question. "Are you cold?" he grinned knowingly.

"N-No," Aurora replied, looking away and towards the mirror where she suspected Maleficent waited with Grace.

_Be strong, _she coached herself. _Be strong, be strong, be strong. _

Her father took a deep breath, sounding annoyed at her avoidance. "Aurora, I wanted to see that you're being taken care of. I'm not happy with what I see."

The question was utterly ridiculous to her. 'Being taken care of?' she thought bitterly.

He certainly hadn't cared when she was being chased around London by a lunatic barrister, nor when he turned her credit cards off. "What do you care?" she shrugged, still not meeting his eye.

"I care because you're living with a madwoman, Aurora Marie Rose!" he shouted, pounding a fist onto the table. The veins in his neck stood up in sharp relief.

The noise and motion made Aurora jump, her breaths coming more rapidly now. The glass gleamed just like the rage that filled his eyes as she peeked sideways, and now she was thankful for it. He couldn't hurt her anymore, and he wasn't going to hurt Maleficent.

Licking her lips, Aurora finally looked full on at the man reduced to wearing prison orange and shackled to his own waist. "_If _Maleficent is mad, it's because of _you. _You did this to her, didn't you?" she seethed.

As quickly as Stefan's anger came, it disappeared at Aurora's accusation. He knew that she startled easily, and that it had worked. A ringing laugh echoed the room before he leaned back and sputtered. "Of course not! I have nothing but the deepest sympathy for that empty shell of a once proud girl. I've been looking for Lilith for years, Aurora... y_ears. _But do you have any idea _why?_"

His game was setting Aurora on edge, and while she understood that on a conscious level, it was impossible to stop her hand from slapping against the glass and growling at her own flesh and blood. "You don't get to call her that name. Don't say that name!"

Summarily dismissing his daughter's outburst, Stefan tapped his fingers together and continued his sordid tale. "I've been looking for her, because _every single application _that I filed to foster her after the deaths of her parents had been denied on the basis of mental health," he informed smoothly. "After a few years, your mother came into the picture and didn't appreciate the money I was spending on private investigation searching for Lilith, so I stopped. All I wanted to do was protect her," he held up his palms in a gesture of innocence.

"You didn't want to protect her!" Aurora shouted, standing up from her chair and throwing the phone receiver down. _He wanted her assets._

Lies, lies - it was all lies. How could he sit there and just spill one after the other like it was normal? If he had succeeded in his scheme to become Maleficent's guardian and by proxy her conservator, what would he have done to her then? The thought made her physically ill, and she clutched at her stomach in an attempt not to vomit.

Unperturbed by the sight of Aurora sweating and becoming peaked, Stefan Rose got one last dig in. "It's a good thing I didn't find her all those years ago, Aurora. I'd have had her institutionalized. It's where evil minds belong – safely locked away, where they can't turn innocent girls like you into the sinful, disrespectful creature I can see you've become," he declared. Even though Aurora had laid her receiver down, his voice echoed through it and into her side of the room.

Standing up and laying his receiver down, Stefan looked towards the mirror and smirked. The guard on his side then opened a door to allow him to leave the room.

Aurora rushed towards the glass, her hands clawed like she wanted to attack. "Maleficent is not evil. You're the evil in the world!" she howled. "_It's you!_"

The clank of the door behind her alerted Aurora to the arrival of someone, but she was unable to do anything but stand in the middle of the room and shake. Gentle hands pulled at her shoulders and then ran down her arms when she would not budge.

"You did well, Aurora," Grace soothed, proud of the young woman for withstanding the visitation for as long as she did. "Easy now, easy. Come with me – the barristers will want to speak with you quickly now."

The psychologist was not the one she wanted to hush or hold her, and she turned away from the touch to walk out of the room. Turning to the left, her eyes searched the observation room for the hands she wanted to hold her; the body she wanted to crush against, warm and cherished in the strong embrace of her lover. Her protector; her... everything.

The room was empty, and Aurora hiccoughed a sob and turned like a lost child towards Grace.

Dr. Foley stood by the door and shook her head, an empathetic and sad expression on her face.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set outside the cottage's window where Maleficent sat beneath her favorite blanket, clad only in her favorite oxford shirt and underwear.

It had only been a day since the debacle at the prison that she'd never forget no matter how hard she tried. Her hands smoothed a leather bound journal's pages open, and she began to write.

Crying all night had left her eyes tired and blurry, and reading glasses balanced on her nose as she looked down at the messy cursive. She purposefully hadn't taken her sleeping medication the night before, and was glad she hadn't.

Scritch-scratch, the pen marked the paper. It was a cathartic thing, writing – but Maleficent couldn't deny that releasing emotions onto paper reminded her of the scars that laced her skin. Both were marks; made permanent with the spilling of something. Writing was simply done with ink, rather than blood.

_"She's angry with me today. _

_I know this because she's hiding in the garden._

_It was an unpleasant evening for the both of us, put mildly. We'd driven to the jail at the request of__ that man yesterday. Of course, the prosecution will do anything to gain a reaction from me, but now they've asked to speak with her on a regular basis as well. _

_One session. One damned interview after her visit, and Aurora could not sleep. Two hot toddies later, she did. _

_She woke us both with her screaming - a nightmare. For hours, she refused to tell me what she had dreamt. When I finally was able to coax it out of her, I was sorry that I had asked. _

_"They killed you!" she hollered, slapping at my shoulders as if feeling the sting against her hands would convince her that I was real. That I was alive, and not truly gone. _

_What else could I do but fold her into my arms and cry with her? I certainly can't tell her that my dreams are just as haunted - that the best dreams I've had in months are the ones where I _am_ dying. _

_"I'm not really dead," I told her. The lie twisted my tongue like bitter poison, and she heard it. She always knows when my mouth speaks untruths. _

_Grace wants me to write everything that I dream. I'd much rather write about when I'm awake. I don't want to remember the bleakness between love and morning. _

_I want to remember her eyes as they peek through the wildflowers and towards the window, imagining that I don't see her pointed glare." _

Aurora was indeed outside, rolling in the riotous blooms just beyond the hedge. Every so often, Maleficent could see a flash of her blue eyes through the foliage, and every time the young woman was caught staring, she would scoot deeper into the Queen Anne's lace and black-eyed Susans.

She was enjoying the freedom of being outside now that the crowds of paparazzi had been lured away by an injunction from the Crown Court. It had been rushed through by a rather pleased duty prosecutor who was saccharine-sweet and oh so very thankful to Aurora for her service to the case.

The memory of the woman that was often awful and damned near belligerent towards herself made Maleficent's eyes roll.

Even though they had the semblance of dignity and propriety returned to their home, Stella still sat parked in her cruiser just off the driveway. She was giving them privacy, and Maleficent was genuinely appreciative for it. It meant she could traipse around without pants again, she thought wryly, and wiggled her bare toes in the receding summer sunshine that poured through the window.

Beside her, a reminder chimed on the iPhone that it was time for nightly tea. The chirping for supper had been ignored, as Aurora was already outside.

While she had been relieved not to choke down food that she certainly did not want to eat, a part of her worried that her little supernova did not eat either. Aurora certainly needed a break from household things – a woman her age ought never be cooried down like a simple housewife – but she still needed nourishment.

Maleficent reached over and silenced the alarm. She'd already refilled her tea minutes ago, and slid another chocolate digestive biscuit from her saucer. Her lips quirked; the handful of sweets that she'd brought back along with the tea would have to suffice for supper, and she wasn't about to complain.

As she munched on the biccie, she pushed the journal off her lap and reached for her favorite volume of Latin poetry. Distraction was the name of her game this evening. If Aurora required her to back down in order to relax, then she would do so.

She'd do anything for her; short of watching Stefan Rose act like a complete psychopath, it seemed.

It wasn't that Maleficent did not want to stay in the observation room with Grace, but that she truly did not remember leaving it. There was an empty space between Stefan yelling, and finding herself outside the prison and wandering the parking lot. When both Grace and Aurora failed to mention it upon exiting the main doors of HM Holme House, she hadn't brought it up.

The implications of the blank time made her grimace. She pushed the thought away, turning to a folded over page towards the back of her book. Catullus' Prose No. 5 fell beneath her fingertips as she trailed them across the worn page, and she felt her cheeks tighten in an attempt to smile. Her lips stayed relaxed though, well adept at hiding the emotions of their owner. They didn't always obey, but tonight she was calm.

The dutch door in the kitchen opened and shut, but she didn't turn away from the book. 'Don't push,' she reminded herself internally.

"Soles occidere et redire possunt: nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda. Da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum..." she began to recite aloud. [1]

The feather light and tickling breaths that were felt next to her ear could only belong to one person, and Maleficent leaned back in silent welcome.

"Then, when we have counted up many thousands, let us shake the abacus so that no one may know the number; and they will become jealous when they see how many kisses we have shared," Aurora translated the last lines before nuzzling her nose into the space between the shell of her love's ear and hairline to press a kiss there.

"You are a stalwart sneak, amare," Maleficent murmured, closing the book. She relished the soft 'plunk' sound that it made in the quiet and sighed.

Aurora sat in front of her, tucking her bare legs beneath Maleficent's own. Her hand slid across the open journal, and she paused before closing it. With a mildly guilty look, she handed it over. "I'm not angry with you," she whispered.

When Maleficent raised her brow in challenge, she held up a hand in a request for more time to speak. The hand reached out and brushed along the burnished waves of brown hair that cascaded over her love's shoulder. "I was feeling alone, and I know that I didn't handle it very... well."

Humming in consideration, Maleficent reached forward to slide Aurora between her legs. It earned a giggle, and the sound was music to her ears. "You were feeling neglected, hmm?"

"I suppose," Aurora mused, chewing at her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I needed you, and you were here, but... not here," she puzzled out, her brows wrinkling together. "That doesn't make any sense."

Her love's simple deduction still pierced Maleficent's heart, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she cupped slightly sun-pinked cheeks under her palms. "It makes perfect sense, and I am sorry for it," she murmured, sliding her nose along its match in a request for affection. "Shall I remedy my egregious error?"

"Please," came the breathy reply from Aurora's lips, which soon found Maleficent's.

The kiss was slow and seductively open, and their exhalations fell heavy into the air.

Taking delight in the small, punctuated moans that escaped Aurora from the exchange, Maleficent slid her hands into the golden curls that she wished never to wake up without seeing. Her fingernails scraped softly against the scalp beneath, something she knew would elicit more of the sounds she craved more than air itself.

Bold hands slid beneath her shirt to move it upwards, and kneaded at her breasts. As Aurora's thumbs rolled over her nipples, she couldn't restrain herself from moaning as well. Her head fell back against the wood that framed the window seat, and she hissed a breath through her teeth. A warm mouth had found its way to where hands had been only seconds ago, causing a very similar warmth to pool deep in her belly. "I'm-" Gasp. "I thought that you needed-"

Aurora nipped at the sensitive flesh where she'd been kissing and sucking at. "Then let me have what I need," she mumbled against the skin. "Let me have you."

A shiver ran from the top of Maleficent's head down to her toes at the declaration of desire, and her teeth began to chatter. She clenched her jaw against the instinctual motion, not wanting any misunderstandings. Her eyes opened lazily, but soon widened in fright.

Staring back at her was the end of a gun, held aloft by none other than the bloke she'd beaten to a pulp in London.

His smile was just as savage as she remembered, and her choked shriek was mistaken by Aurora for a ticklish spot.

Her amare's face drew up with a smile. "I love you, but please hold-"

Aurora's request for stillness was cut off by Lenny slamming the butt end of the pistol into the back of her head, and she slumped forward onto Maleficent's lap, unconscious.

Nerves firing hormones faster than her mind could keep up, Maleficent shook like a leaf. Her arms trembled so badly that Aurora's body beneath her hands began to tremble as well. A scream lodged in her throat, but it stayed there.

The edges of her vision blurred, and her mother's voice filled the space in her mind. _Hide. _

She couldn't hide now. Her throat strained to keep quiet instead.

"Shame I had to end the little show, Lil'," Lenny laughed, motioning the gun aside. "Pick 'er up, and put 'er in a kitchen chair."

At his request, Maleficent became aware and dug her fingernails into the woman she held protectively, unable to bring her any closer. Anger worked the knot from her throat, and her teeth bared. "No!" she spat. "You'll not have her."

"Let me make this right clear," the man rumbled. "Im'ma shoot _you_ either way tonight. If you want 'er to stay safe, put 'er in the damned chair so she don't go running after us."

When there wasn't any compliance to his request, Lenny cocked the pistol and aimed it at her knee. "I was gonna be nice about it, Lil'. You're making it bloody damn hard."

Underneath her hands, Aurora began to groan.

"Now! Bloody now!" Lenny shouted, reaching forward to grab at Aurora's hair.

Once he was in motion, Maleficent slid off the window seat. She backed across the living room, hushing the woman in her arms who was slowly coming to.

The gun discharged into the floorboards, and Lenny's black-brown eyes flared with the promise that next time the bullet would be aimed. "_Kitchen. Chair._" he growled.

The last thing Maleficent wanted Aurora to see was what she knew this night would end in. A tear rolled down her cheek as she kissed the sweet forehead that laid on her shoulder before dragging Aurora's body into the kitchen. She placed her onto a chair and stood back.

Lenny pulled a roll of paracord from his pocket and threw it directly towards her head. It bounced off, and he wheezed a chuckle. "Tie 'er up, and make it quick. The cop outside ain't gonna stay knocked out forever."

Crouching to pick up the coil of cordage, Maleficent looked up at Lenny with disgust. "I- I can't do this to her!" she argued.

Nodding as if he seemed to agree, Lenny pointed the gun at Aurora. "Ah, reminds you does it? But, you either do it, or I put a slug in her. Boss won't mind the collateral damage so long as she lives. So, its your choice, doll."

Aurora's head lolled backwards as she moaned in pain. "What's going on?"

"Meeeeeeeeemory," Lenny began to sing tauntingly. "All alone in the moonlight! Bah, c'mon already."

An idea crossed Maleficent's mind as her hands shakily wrapped the cord around Aurora's legs. Lenny was invariably stupid, and might not know the difference between knots. He was certainly no Boy Scout. "I'm here, darling," she murmured, testing the slide of her first knot while the meathead's gaze wandered his surroundings for a moment.

"Why are you-" Aurora whimpered as her eyes focused on the hulking, bald man behind Maleficent. "Oh, oh God."

"Put your hands behind the chair," Maleficent whispered, her eyes pleading for obedience.

The blood-curdling scream that erupted from Aurora only served to anger Lenny further, and he made a show of waving the gun around before placing it against the side of Maleficent's head.

"Yes, put yer hands be'ind the chair, Miss Rose," he sneered.

Aurora clamped her hands together behind the chair as she blubbered, begging the man she knew to be her father's bodyguard not to hurt the woman she loved.

Maleficent's heart shattered with every word, and even further with every wrap of the cord around the delicate wrists that she'd held in her hands so many times before. Many times, but not nearly enough.

"Haven't you hurt her enough!" Aurora shouted at Lenny. "You all took her dignity, and now you're doing this!"

The cold pistol barrel lifted from Maleficent's head to smack at Aurora's cheek.

"Shut yer trap!" Lenny sounded offended by Aurora's insinuation. "_I_ never fooked her; bloody hell! I begged your father to put her down proper that night when I saw 'er breathing still!"

Taking a shuddering breath, he muttered to himself. "I _knew_ she'd be cracked in the head. She'll turn on you – when you least expect it. That's what animals like 'er do when they're beat down."

He well and truly meant to off her tonight, and the hairs on the back of Maleficent's neck stood on end. During his display of conscience, she saw an opportunity to duck and roll.

Unfortunately, Lenny saw it coming and laid a kick to her ribs.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming out, but tears sprung from her eyes. Quicker than she could roll the other way, his hands twisted her wrists and zip tied them behind her back. A familiar jingling dangled near her ears, and her legs kicked and scrambled to get as far away from it as possible.

"Ah, ah, ah," Lenny rebuked her as he grabbed a handful of her hair. Forcing her to stand, he yanked her head back roughly. "You gonna calm down now, or do I have to put your pretty collar on?"

Crumpling beneath his grasp at the prospect of that particular method of torture, Maleficent could feel the crazed fear burning in her eyes.

During the entire scuffle, Aurora had bounced her chair around and hollered. The same fear was mirrored back.

Her amare was being tormented just as she was, if not more. It was something that she couldn't allow to continue. "Just stop," Maleficent gulped. "I'll go with you. Just... _stop_."

"Smart bird," Lenny hissed into her ear, and shoved her towards the front door.

* * *

Aurora ran.

She'd called out for help while sliding the chair across the cottage's floor barely ten minutes ago, but stopped when she felt the rope that bound her sliding tighter and then looser once more. It didn't take long for her to remember what she had been taught by Maleficent regarding slip-knots.

Forcing herself to relax enough for the cord to loosen was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but Aurora did it anyway. The bindings slid down her wrists and ankles as she wiggled slowly, becoming more slack with each movement.

Once they'd fallen completely away, she had sprung out of the chair and into the night. Stella had been found useless, slumped over in the cruiser and bleeding from a gash near her hairline. She was alive however, to her immense relief.

Following the footprints through the gravel and towards the woods, Aurora disappeared into the trees. "Maleficent!" she cried. "I'm coming... Don't give up!"

The tree branches bent away from her pushing arms and snapped back into her face as she blindly stumbled through the low brush. She'd been in such a rush to follow that her feet were bare, and twigs broke beneath them with every step.

Those pains were all a feather light caress compared to the agony and emptiness growing in her heart.

Her lungs were beginning to burn with the exertion of running. As she came to a small clearing, Aurora spun in a circle. When she heard scuffling leaves followed by a shout coming from the east, she launched herself back into motion once more.

Only seconds after she had, a gunshot pierced the air.

A strangled weeping could be heard as well, and it took Aurora a moment to understand that the sound was coming from her.

Another shot echoed through the trees.

Her feet somehow began to move towards the noise, traveling along in the dark for what seemed like forever. They stopped once they hit something soft, just beneath a huge tree. Aurora didn't need to see in the pitch black to know who she had found. She'd failed.

She fell alongside the warm body and gathered it into her arms, rocking back and forth. "No! No, no - you _promised_ me that you'd never leave."

When there was no response, Aurora bent over and pressed her face into the woman's silky hair, ignoring the leaves that were woven through it. This is what Hell was, she was sure.

"I love you, Maleficent," she sobbed bitterly. "I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

* * *

1\. Excerpt of Catullus' No. 5 -

Suns may set and yet rise again, but

Us, with our brief light, can set but once.

One never-ending night must be slept.

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred.

Then, another thousand, and a second hundred.

Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred.


	19. In Somnis (In Dreams)

**A/N: Hello, dear readers! Ready for chapter 19, and all the feels? Well, here you go!**

**I know there's probably going to be a few "what the hell, Coco" moments during this chapter, and I am prepared to answer any (or many) questions you may have about what is happening, what it means, etc. etc. etc. **

**So, without further ado...**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Neglected Space," by Imogen Heap**

**"Mercy," by Sarah McLachlan**

**"Cut," by Plumb**

**"Don't Deserve You," by Plumb**

* * *

**Chapter 19: In Somnis (In Dreams)**

* * *

"But I will stretch my toes so that they touch the rail at the end of the bed;

I will assure myself, touching the rail, of something hard.

Now I cannot sink; cannot altogether fall through the thin sheet now.

Now I spread my body on this frail mattress and hang suspended.

I am above the earth now.

I am no longer upright, to be knocked against and damaged.

All is soft, and bending.

Walls and cupboards whiten and bend

their yellow squares on top of which a pale glass gleams.

Out of me now my mind can pour."  
_― Virginia Woolf, The Waves_

* * *

All was pain – both blinding and revealing in its intensity. She felt as if each and every cell inside of her body was thrumming with it. Breathing hurt; it was better to take shallow inhalations, and she did so.

Her left arm laid useless against the shockingly cold ground, and she wondered why. An attempt to move it brought more of the agony that she'd thought was already at its zenith. No - instead it rushed from her burning lungs to the shoulder that knit the arm to her body, throbbing with a pulse of its own.

A pulse... Alive? Was she alive?

"Is he dead?" Maleficent inquired of the stillness around her, the forest air dark and cold.

"_Is he dead?" _

She shook her head, and rubbed her right hand against a pain near her hairline. It felt wet; when her hand pulled away, the fingertips were smeared with bright red blood.

"_Is he dead?" _the voice asked again – much like her inner monologue, but soft and excited instead of sharp and staid.

She remembered being both pushed and carried by Lenny to this clearing in the forest, and made to kneel in the clover and moss that grew beneath a large tree. Laying beneath it now, Maleficent was confused that she did not remember more.

Closing her eyes, she tried to recollect what happened after the twigs and brush had bit into the tender flesh on her knees. If she pushed just hard enough, perhaps...

There it was; just beyond her reach, layered in filmy gossamer. She'd twisted her arms over her head – that explained the pain in her shoulder – and kicked out at Lenny. The shot he'd loaded went off, and then...

"_I did it! I kicked him!" _a giggling voice filled the memory and cut it off. _"Then what happened, Mallie?" _The voice was almost gleeful now, pride lacing its tone.

"What?" Maleficent bit back. Opening her eyes, she sat up and groaned from the quick motion.

Directly in front of her face was her own – mirrored. Inquisitive green eyes searched hers for recognition, widening as their brows furrowed in curiosity.

What _was _this?

"_You don't remember sod all, do you?" _the pert little mouth laughed. _"But blimey, you can __**see **__me." _

The girl leaned back and sat with legs akimbo, either completely unaware or unbothered by the fact that she was nearly naked, save the underwear and spaghetti strap undershirt that Maleficent recalled wearing beneath her oxford button down.

Running a hand through her blonde hair, she picked a few bloody leaves from the top of her head. _"Eww," _she mumbled, dropping them to the ground.

Maleficent stared, gobsmacked. Her hand pulled the same bloody leaves from her hair, matching the movements. Suddenly angry at the muddled state of her mind, she scowled. If what she suspected was truly happening, then smacking her own cheek would garner the same results across the way.

Smack!

"_Oww! What the bleedin' hell did'ya do that for?" _the girl howled, clasping a hand against her stinging cheek.

"That's for the prison stunt you pulled," Maleficent seethed as she rubbed her own cheek. Her body was propped up and cradled against something soft. Twisting to see what it was, she saw only air.

She turned back to the girl before her, and narrowed her eyes. "That was you, wasn't it?"

The younger self had the good sense to look mildly guilty, but her eyes still flashed with thinly veiled indignation. _"Duh," _she muttered. _"__**He**__ was there, and __**you**__ weren't protecting us. __**I**__ had to do __**something**__." _

Offended by that assumption, Maleficent hissed, "I've done just fine without your meddling." This was bad, she knew – very, very bad. She'd gone off the deep end completely; certifiably insane. "Go away."

It was one thing to leave the broken shell of a girl behind all those years ago; to step in and take the all the hurt away from her fragile, innocent mind.

It was quite another to acknowledge that she still existed.

To Maleficent, the person that sat in front of her twiddling their thumbs and looking around like they'd never seen a starry sky had died that night, all those years ago.

Acting every bit the fourteen years she'd been frozen at forever, the girl rolled her eyes and snorted inelegantly. _"I only go where we need me, an' you were doing a shite job without me tonight! Just going to give up and let him shoot us, huh? For what, Mallie – a girl?" _

A girl – simply put, an unnecessary obstacle. That was how this limpet viewed her amare, and it enraged Maleficent. "Her name is Aurora!"

Her sweet, shining star entered the space between the two seated women like a projected image. Breathy sighs; a flash of her golden hair and deep blue eyes as she danced around the living room. Soon the images turned personal, and as a sliver of Aurora's skin was revealed by her hands pulling at the fabric of a tee shirt, it winked out.

"Stop! That's not for you-"

As if the recollection beckoned her invisible presence, Aurora's voice echoed the leaf littered clearing. She was crying out for Maleficent to wake up.

"_She's worried about us," _the blonde chattered on, folding her arms around tucked knees. _"Maybe we should go back." _Appraising the supine form of her match, she shuddered and frowned. _"You look like crud; I'll drive." _

Memories of Maleficent looking into a foggy bathroom mirror flashed before her mind; a hand wiping the condensation away before pawing angrily at tears that had fallen onto her cheeks, quickly followed by tossing and turning in bed. The feeling of swallowing pills both dry and with cold tea came afterward. The girl didn't like swallowing them dry.

That had been only a day before the visit to the jail.

What was strange about the mental representations was a keen sense of looking at herself from the outside in. There wasn't a filmy layer like when she tried to remember what had happened past kicking out at Lenny, or before finding herself wandering the parking lot of HM Holme House.

These weren't the alternate's memories being viewed, but hers being infringed on.

And yet, the teenager looked nothing if not victorious as they breathed rapidly at the realization, lungs burning again with the effort. They tasted blood with every exhalation, and spat onto the ground simultaneously.

Mutiny. This was a damned mutiny.

"You're not going anywhere," Maleficent growled, clenching her right fist closed.

The child trapped within the woman had the audacity to raise her eyebrow, and smile. _"You wouldn't. I'll take care of you, just like you took care of me. It will be a good thing! You'll see-"_

Her dialogue was cut off by a right hook connecting with her jaw, and both she and Maleficent were thrown onto their backs, gasping for air.

Before another word could be said between them, Maleficent sat up and launched herself on top of the distracted fragment. Battling the excruciating pain that blossomed in every joint at the action, she still managed to close her right hand around the thin, pale neck and squeeze.

Both mouths choked out identical screams of betrayal, followed by grunts and wheezing the harder their right hands constricted.

Just as Maleficent's vision started to fade at the corners, Lilith's hand fell away from her throat. A single tear rolled down her cheek, while her eyes somehow conveyed the suffering and torment of fifteen years worth of captivity.

Her shell pink lips no longer moved, but Maleficent heard her well. Heartache at what they both considered base treachery; the lowest form of perfidy... cut like a knife.

"_You would kill me to save her?"_

* * *

Aurora sat in the overstuffed chair by the crackling fire, her shaking hands cradling a cup of coffee like a lifeline. Tucked around her shoulders was the knit blanket that smelled just like Maleficent, and her bandaged feet were tucked beneath the bathrobe that smelled the same.

She cleared her throat, still sore from screaming for what seemed like hours for help to come, even though the rescue that arrived assured her that it had only been just short of one. She hadn't stopped screaming then, but that was besides the point. That was only 48 hours ago.

The events of the past two days blended together like something out of a horror movie, and unsteady breaths panted from her lips as she tried to make heads or tails of it. Some of it made sense, but then other parts made absolutely none – primarily that Maleficent was not coming home with her. Both the hospital and Dr. Foley had been tightlipped about why.

Leaning her head back against the plush fabric of the chair, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. It was a gesture done in vain, she knew. Aurora hadn't slept since Maleficent had been torn from her arms by a swarm of police and medics-

-since Maleficent's bloodied hand, its knuckles battered, had been pried from her neck. She'd awoken in Aurora's arms only minutes before the arrival of help, but her eyes had been vacant. Unaware.

Rubbing against the mild soreness that remained, she winced. Her love had been so weak, it had been nearly laughable when the medics accused her of attempting to hurt Aurora. The injured woman clearly had not a clue as to what was going on or where she was, let alone who she was trying to choke.

She'd grappled with the medics as they dragged her away, but Grace had put a fierce and heroic stop to that. While Maleficent shivered beneath her tender touch, she'd spoken soothing words barely audible over the chattering of her patient's teeth. Whatever Dr. Foley had said, it had been enough for Maleficent to lay her uninjured arm into the doctor's lap, her then barely lucid eyes pleading for relief.

Aurora remembered grimacing as a shot of something that made Maleficent's head loll back into the doctor's waiting arms was administered swiftly by the medics. Then, they'd set to work repositioning a clearly dislocated left shoulder while staunching the bleeding from a gunshot wound to her thigh. A laceration on Maleficent's forehead still bled profusely, soaking through the coat Grace had thrown over pajamas in her haste to arrive on scene.

The very same blood had soaked through Aurora's white lace dress. She opened her eyes to glare at the fireplace.

It had been the first thing to burn - unless you counted Lenny Brewster's soul. Aurora swore to God that if the man wasn't already burning in the deepest pits of Hell already, that there was no justice in the world.

The constables had hastily thrown a tarp over his cold body once the portable lights had flooded the woods with their harsh incandescence. As they did so, they wondered loudly how a woman with only one good hand could have both broken Lenny's leg and beaten his face in... with his own pistol.

Aurora hoped for the first time in her life that someone's death had hurt. She prayed that Maleficent had made Lenny pay dearly; a pound of flesh for each once of pain he'd ever inflicted on her before she'd collapsed at the base of the tree.

There was a knock at the front door, startling her from her fervent petitions to both Heaven and Hell.

The very idea of walking on the bruised and cut soles of her feet made her jaw clench, and she hoped whomever was knocking had a key. "Who is it?" she yelled, coughing when her voice cracked under the strain.

The doorknob wiggled, loud in the cottage's relative silence. Whomever it was _definitely_ had a key.

Still, the hair on the back of Aurora's neck stood up, and her hand reached for the fireplace poker. "I said, who is it!?"

As the door opened, two women could be heard bickering. Aurora sighed in relief and released her grip on the poker; it was only Elsa and Ava.

They peeked around the entrance to the living room at her; Ava looked stressed and angry, while Elsa looked equal parts disgruntled and shell shocked.

"Hi," Aurora muttered, turning her attention back to the fireplace.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to Elsa Arandelle that she was irrationally angry and jealous of her ability to walk the halls of James Cook Hospital, asking questions and pestering nurses for updates. Aurora would have liked to walk those hallways, too. She imagined that the nurses would have kicked her to the curb by now for constantly troubling them about Maleficent's condition.

"Ah Gud, Aurora," Elsa murmured, rubbing the back of her neck. She was ill at ease with the young woman's ire, and it showed. "I don't mean to bother you. We brought some breakfast-"

Ava rolled her eyes, and bustled into the living room. She gave Aurora a cursory hug, and ran her warm hands over Aurora's pinked cheeks. Not bothering to make uncomfortable talk, her hand scooped up the coffee mug from the table to refill it, and the other reached for the rose-and-ivy decorated teacup that sat beside it.

Aurora nearly smacked Ava's hand away as she leaned forward. "Don't touch the tea!" she stammered, biting at her lower lip. "Just... leave it alone, okay?"

The woman's hand recoiled like it had been bit by a viper. "O-Okay, Aurora," Ava smiled nervously, while giving Elsa a sideways glance. "I'll just go and pour you a fresh cup of coffee...and toast you a bagel." She walked off to the kitchen then, her shoulders relaxing more and more the farther she got from the living room.

Sitting down on the chair near Aurora's, Elsa looked around. She was stalling, and frankly more than worried about the mental state of the young woman seated across from her.

Aurora's blue eyes narrowed into a glare at the chair she'd sat in, and Elsa huffed. It was Mallie's chair; the territorial positioning extended well beyond the teacup.

Choosing to ignore the behavior in favor for distracting Aurora with news, she took a deep breath and met the glare head on while adopting an expression of sympathy. "Hey now, _I know_. I know what you're feeling, even though you don't think I do."

Scoffing disbelief and crossing her arms, Aurora looked away from Elsa's pitying gaze. "That's bollocks. What do you know? You haven't even texted me."

Elsa fidgeted in her chair, thinking a bit on how to word her response. "I can't even begin to understand how _worried_ you must have been, but the investigators told us – absolutely no electronic communication regarding what's going on. Its too easy for anyone to hack into. The newspapers, your father's thugs... Aurora, this is huge; du forstår?" [1]

"I know that!" Aurora snapped, waving her hand around for emphasis. "I was there when the guy I used to call Uncle Lenny as a kid came to shoot her in the fucking head, Elsa! He slapped me around too, damn it!"

Hearing Aurora's raised and agitated voice, Ava scurried into the living room with a worried look. "Is everything alright?" she warned more than asked.

When both Elsa and Aurora looked guilty enough, she slid two steaming mugs of coffee and a toasted bagel onto the tea table. "As I thought," she mused grumpily before heading back towards the kitchen.

Just as she was rounding the corner, she stopped and turned towards them again. "Ehm, I was just wondering – where are the kitchen chairs?"

Aurora's face lit up with an almost sinister grin, which took both women present aback. "Oh, you know," she chuckled strangely, in a way that was almost unhinged. "I needed fire wood."

"In the middle of August?" Ava wondered, looking uneasily at the fireplace. The central air was on, but the young woman was still burning a fire. Not only that, she was using the kitchen furniture for kindling.

"Mmhmm," Aurora shrugged, refusing to divulge her own reasons. She turned expectantly back towards Elsa. "So, you were saying?"

Nodding her acknowledgment while taking a sip of coffee, Elsa gathered the strength she needed to break the news. "As I was telling you, we're not supposed to be communicating via cell phone or computer. Even if I _could_ have, I don't know anything about Mallie's condition except that she's stable. They removed the bullet from her thigh, and put her shoulder back in," she flinched. "That's all."

"What do you mean, that's all!" Aurora exploded, unfolding her legs and nearly standing up before remembering the bandages on her feet.

"Dr. Foley," Elsa interrupted, holding her hands up in a calming gesture.

Gaping at those two words, Aurora settled back down. "What about Dr. Foley?"

Elsa sighed dramatically. "Mallie told Dr. Foley – she doesn't want to see me, or want me to know anything else. She revoked my proxy, Aurora."

Ava entered the room and sat down on the loveseat, nodding her agreement. "It's true," she whispered. "I didn't believe it at first, but yesterday's date was written next to Maleficent's signature on the paperwork rescinding the proxy."

"But..." Aurora sputtered, "Then what about me? Why wouldn't the nurses tell me anything either?"

"_That _I don't know, but I hope you can tell us," Elsa said, pulling a thick manila envelope from her messenger bag. "Dr. Foley gave this to me, for you."

She handed the heavy package over to Aurora, who took it immediately and held it like a prized possession.

Across the front in fluid script she'd recognize anywhere was her name. Licking her lips in anxiety, Aurora ran her hands over the edges of the envelope before tugging at the brass folding clasp and tearing at the sticky closure. She shook the package gently to dislodge the contents, which fell onto her lap. On the very top was a letter addressed to **'Aurora Rose's eyes only,'** from Dr. Foley. **'Read Last,'** it warned.

She quirked her lips at that, and put it aside. Beneath that letter was another bearing her name, obviously from Maleficent. This she unfolded promptly, her eyes hungrily searching the paper for information.

"Well?" Elsa prodded, leaning forward eagerly.

In a haltingly slow voice, Aurora read the letter aloud, both satisfied and disappointed that there wasn't much in it that would be considered too personal.

"_Aurora,_

_The smallest key on my chain unlocks the safe beneath the desk upstairs. Inside is enough to get you by until I see you again..."_ her voice began to falter as she teared up at the implications of what had been written.

"_Dr. Foley will stop by to fetch the necklace to present it as evidence. Keep it in the safe until then. Please, spend the money inside – all of it. Buy whatever your heart desires, for I desire nothing than to see it emptied." _

"How strange..." Ava reflected, cupping her chin against a hand as she leaned against her knee. "Of course, Maleficent is strange."

"Shh-t!" Elsa hushed her fiancee, looking back to Aurora in anticipation. The young blonde was shivering beneath her blanket, tears rolling down her cheeks readily. "Kjæreste... what else?" [2]

If anything, Aurora looked embarrassed by her tears, and she sniffled mightily against them. "I-uh... She just signed it 'M.'"

The resulting quiet from both Elsa and Ava at that information had Aurora restless, and her cheeks burned. She didn't want Maleficent's damned money, and never had. Now, she was at an impasse – use it, or starve. Spend it, or the electricity might be cut off. Even though it seemed like paying the cottage's bills and feeding herself were trifling matters compared to what they'd gone through together, Aurora was hesitant. Perhaps she could just pay the bills in advance for the next few months, and empty the coffers more quickly. Maybe she wouldn't feel quite so guilty then...

"No lovey-dovey Latin? No _amare?_" Elsa tsked, crossing her arms. If the recent events hadn't been so dire, she might have even joked about it. "That's just... not right."

Beneath the letter was a stack of lined paper, bound in a file folder and wrapped in rubber bands. A thick black marker had scrawled an instruction on the outside: **"READ ALONE – Thank you, M." **

A piece of the looseleaf that stuck out from the file had scribbled script to the very edge, and looked nearly illegible. If Aurora had to describe it, the words that poured from the page looked frantic. Frightened. It was so very different than Maleficent's normal writing; the cursive that had adorned the front of the package and the letter.

"I guess she wants me to read this later?" Aurora mumbled, setting it aside from Elsa and Ava's view.

"What about the note from Dr. Foley?" Elsa questioned. "I won't ask what's in it, if you don't want to share. She seemed pretty serious about it being for you only."

Grasping the letter from Grace in her hand, Aurora frowned. "Hang on, let me read it."

She opened the standard sized envelope with her fingernail, and slipped the note out. Her eyes scanned it quickly – it was short, but told so much – and very clearly why it was for only for her to know.

_Miss Rose:_

_Miss Moore is safe, and mending well in the secure wing of the hospital. I endeavor to make it my personal mission to you both – no harm shall come to her while in my care. _

_At this time, I have advised her not to receive visitors, including but not limited to Miss Arandelle and yourself. Please understand, Miss Rose – this is in no way meant to be hurtful to you. _

_In my professional opinion, it would only be damaging to both Miss Moore and yourself to see one another at this stage. She feels horribly guilty for accidentally hurting you, though I have assured her that you are physically well. _

_Furthermore – Maleficent Moore, as you know, is left handed. She writes, lights cigarettes, and even opens doors with her left hand. _

_Her left arm is currently in a sling, leaving her left hand unable to do much of anything. And yet, she writes to you with her right hand – twenty pages of notes, along with the missive regarding monetary matters. _

_Please expect a visit from me soon to discuss this further. DS Jordan will let you know of plans as they arise. _

_Warm Regards,_

_Dr. Grace Foley, BCFT [3]_

* * *

"It's not much, I know," Grace smiled at the figure seated near the bedroom window. "I don't often have guests."

The brunette turned her tired gaze from staring outside to the doctor. "It is adequate," she replied measuredly.

The off putting, cool behavior was so typical of Maleficent Moore that it brought a pleased expression to Grace's face, where it would have probably offended any other person. "Yes, well! I could gather some of your personal effects when I go to see Aurora in a few days-"

"That's not necessary," Maleficent interrupted, waving her right hand sharply to halt the momentum of the conversation. "Aurora needs... She needs..." her lips trembled at the stuttering train of thought, and her green eyes grew glassy. Clearing her throat, she turned towards the window once more.

"All right," Dr. Foley murmured, not wanting to push her luck. She'd been able to keep the woman calm since her midnight release from the hospital – whisking her away in the dead of night to avoid prying eyes – and knew that calm was tenuous at best. "How is your pain?"

Visibly flinching at the question, her patient flexed the leg that was still wrapped in gauze and bandages, but did not respond.

Moving towards the door, Grace sighed. "I'll just go about my business, then. Holler if you need anything?"

Maleficent gulped audibly, giving the forensic psychologist pause.

"The pain... will someday be useful to me-" [4] she shuddered between breathy sobs.

"-So I shall be patient and tough," the doctor finished, her mouth pursed knowingly. "Ovid's opinion on revenge; how very appropriate."

* * *

1 du forstår? - do you comprehend?

2 Kjæreste – sweetie

3 BCFT – Board Certified, Forensic Traumatology

4 Maleficent quotes this to Aurora in Chapter 13, although in Latin: "Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim."


	20. Amo, Amas (I Love the Girl)

**A/N: Happy Halloween/Samhain to all of my readers! The feedback I've been getting from this fic is just so wonderful, I can't even begin to tell you how much it means. Thank you so much!**

**Remember, reviews and PMs are food for authors' souls. Also particularly dear to me is the influx of fan art and even a fan video. Be sure to stop by my profile for links to all three, or pop over to Youtube dot com backslash oG7dwcqNANc (spaces removed) to view MaloraErrrday's fantastic work.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"It's Only," (Feat. Zyra) by ODESZA**

**"At Arms Length," Plumb**

**"Cold," as played by Vitamin String Quartet**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Amo, Amas (I Love the Girl)**

* * *

"...She had felt such pure hatred that now

she had no more rancor left in her heart.

She had finally allowed her negative feelings to surface,

feelings that had been repressed for years in her soul.

She had actually _felt_ them, and they were no longer necessary.

They could leave."

_-Paulo Coelho_

* * *

Maleficent knew this dream well, but it never ceased to make her heart race. It would never stop filling her with rage; a burning, awful feeling now that she was fully aware of what would happen next. The tattered pieces of what _was _and what _had been_ paired up seamlessly with what had been _hidden. _

She supposed that was the strange thing about the subconscious mind, all the while watching the horrors of that night play out _one more time _inside her head.

Instead of fifteen years of being the one crawling on the soft rug and underneath her bed, she watched from afar. Near the window, she was able to take in the entire scene – what she couldn't imagine was filled in by her imagination, or was blurred.

Repressed memories, Grace had called them. She suspected that this nightmare was a lucid dream as well, and encouraged Maleficent to escape.

Viewing oneself nearly dying was nothing short of horrifying, but she'd argued with the forensic psychologist that there wasn't any way to escape. In order to do so, she'd have to go through the group of men circling the prostrate form of an alternately choking and praying girl like frenzied sharks.

The girl was wishing for death, and every hoarse whisper begging for it to end slipped past her own lips as well – the Hail Mary. _'Pray for us sinners now...'_

Frustration and fury boiled scalding hot in her veins. "Don't you get it?!" she seethed at the girl. "She doesn't care! God doesn't give a shit, you stupid idiot; because you're already dead!"

Her words slurred towards the end as the dream slowed and changed. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Maleficent was thrust back into the body on the carpet.

It was a dizzying sensation, and when her vision swirled back to normal, she was peering up at the night sky. The carpet was no longer soft, and jabbed painfully into the tender flesh of her thighs. '_Grass. Twigs. Leaves,' _her mind processed.

Aurora's face filled the space where the stars had been moments ago, blue eyes screwed up in fear as she made long-familiar choking noises. The bloodied hand that held her still against the darkness fell away in shock.

Gasping awake, Maleficent then bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out. Normally, she would have hit the right hand against the wood headboard until it hurt, but she'd not been as quiet as she hoped.

Grace Foley leaned forward from a bedside chair and clasped a hand firmly around her wrist to tug it still. "Real, or not real?" she demanded.

"It might as well be real," Maleficent hissed, tugging her hand back to rub at the wrist. While blowing quick breaths through her lips, she sat up and leaned against the array of askew pillows. After 4 minutes had gone by on the bedside clock, her heart stopped hammering against her ribs.

"Yes, I suppose it does seem very real," Grace conceded, motioning with her hands for Maleficent to scoot over.

When the recalcitrant woman finally did so, the doctor perched herself onto the edge of the bed. "Do you need something?" she murmured kindly now that Maleficent was again stoically silent and seemed lucid.

Annoyed by what she considered pity, Maleficent turned away and grit her teeth audibly. "I think I should like a drink, and I shall hobble my way down the damned stairs to get it if you say no."

Chuckling wryly at the prickly nature she'd come to be used to from her charge, Grace reached down to the floor and produced two tumblers and a bottle of apple brandy. She'd been anticipating this particular request, having heard it for six nights on.

Her eyes twinkled when Maleficent licked her lips unconsciously. "You won't be able to take the lithium until two o'clock in the afternoon if you drink now, but I think that's a sacrifice you're willing to make, hmm?"

Maleficent smirked and reached for the bottle. "Who needs chemical happiness when you've brought the good vintage?"

"Moderation," Grace warned before she let the bottle go. Her eyes followed the hand that had reached out to take it. "Does your left shoulder not pain you tonight?"

After opening the brandy and pouring a bit into each tumbler, Maleficent shrugged. "Not too poorly since you let me out of the sling," she lied smoothly.

"Not since you threatened to burn it and went without against my instructions, you mean," the doctor tsked and gave a small smile.

Sipping her drink slowly, she tried not to wince as she watched the woman next to her down the first in one gulp and pour a second. It was a knee jerk reaction on her part; having left the clinical profession behind after the heartbreak of losing too many patients – whether to self-medication or something else. However, as the years she worked for the unit wore on, it became easier to understand the pain of seeing too much.

It also had given her a clearer mind when dealing with witnesses, suspects, and even the occasional close-contact assignment like this. Grace was keenly aware that no matter how much Maleficent denied that she wanted to run straight back home, her nightly terrors and subsequent verbalization told otherwise. "Do you want to talk about why you were calling out for Aurora?" she asked lightly.

A sharp intake of breath whistled through Maleficent's teeth, and her eyes hardened. "No."

"It wasn't your fault," the doctor argued gently, taking the bottle of brandy to pour herself another. "It's been a week, dear. You cannot play at not remembering any longer, nor can you refute the fact that the two of you are absolute messes without each other. Once the trial begins, you'll be sequestered; no matter how much you wish to see her then, until both of your testimonies are finished, I won't be able to allow it," she reminded Maleficent, pointedly ignoring the heated glare it had earned her.

"I am not safe for her," Maleficent grumbled, the corners of her mouth turning down fiercely into a scowl. "Furthermore, how do I even begin to reconcile the emotions that roll around my head when I think of her now?"

Collecting her thoughts for a moment, Grace raised her hands and made a gesture akin to stating the obvious before speaking it. "Now that you've addressed the irrationality of hating her belongs to a part of you that no longer has reason to exist, I suppose that leaves the love."

Offense lined the deep creases in Maleficent's brows as she very nearly growled. "I don't hate her! I could never-"

"Then shall I have DS Jordan fetch her in the morning?" Grace interrupted, a slyness to her quirked lips giving away that she'd baited purposely.

"Absolutely not!" Maleficent snapped.

The doctor sighed deeply before standing up. If it were a stranger she was dealing with, and not someone she swore to protect and heal (and frankly liked,) she would have told them that they were acting the coward. Maleficent Moore was afraid, that much was clear. She would never admit to it outwardly, but it was as evident to Grace as the sky was blue. It was easier to push love away and to curl up with the pain than to fight for it, and eventually lose it – whether to harm, accident, or natural death.

She was falsely hoping that Aurora's age and inexperience would cause the girl to give up, and most likely depending on her feigned ignorance of the hurt she was causing by her absence would drive a wedge between them. When it was obvious that protecting Aurora by holding her close became the most dangerous thing in the world, Maleficent now sacrificed her own happiness to protect Aurora by keeping her away.

And what a sad thing it was. Shaking her head, Grace collected the tumblers and the brandy and made for the door. "If you were my friend, Miss Moore... I would tell you true. As a doctor, I'm bound to do so. Don't do this to her – to yourself," she implored.

Maleficent turned away once more, a veil of mahogany hair sliding to hide her face from view. "If you were my friend Dr. Foley, I would tell you to bugger off," she ground out, her voice cracking.

Stifling a laugh at the behavior because it seemed entirely inappropriate with the sadness that pervaded the room, Grace merely nodded instead. "I see. Well, goodnight again," she replied, and shut the door behind her.

"Goodnight," Maleficent whispered, but not to anyone present. Her eyes stared off into the darkness outside the window.

* * *

It was a quiet Sunday morning in the suburbs of Darlington, North Yorkshire. Across the street from North Lodge Park sat a line of prim row houses, the early sunlight creeping into the windows over the trees.

Also creeping were two blonde women, their heads bobbing just above the parked cars on the left side of the street as they ducked behind the vehicles. Crouching behind the cars had drawn the attention of some residents walking their dogs or headed to church, so the pair stood upright behind a tall lorry [1] and tried to look part of the scenery for a few minutes. They spoke in muffled voices and stared at the park, all the while shrugging and smiling at the curious townsfolk.

"Are you absolutely sure, Elsa?" Aurora questioned her partner in crime once a group had passed.

The taller of the two rolled her eyes. "Yes, Aurora. For the last time, yes. Do you think that Ava would risk losing her job to get this information if she wasn't absolutely sure? If she was going to do it, she did it right. The discharge file she found on the tablet while checking a patient in from the ambulance stated Dr. Foley brought Mallie back to London."

Aurora groaned and pressed a palm to her forehead. "Then why are we in the middle of Darlington?"

Snickering while poking her head around the lorry to look at house numbers, Elsa shook her head. "How can you be so sneaky and so naive at the same time? The discharge file was a bunch of pisspreik, lille." [2]

She turned back and met Aurora's glare for the teasing with a crooked grin. "Why in Gud's name would they take Mallie back to London? Dr. Foley told you she was going to care for her; so here we are at 109 North Lodge Terrace."

"And that's what, precisely?!" Aurora spat, peeking around the other side of the lorry in confusion.

"Dr. Foley's house," Elsa nodded resolutely, standing straight and adjusting her leather jacket in an attempt to look serious. "I'm tired of this, Aurora. You don't sleep, and Ava had to bribe you with an entire Cadbury bar just to shower today," she huffed before her eyes grew glassy as well. "I miss her too, and as much as I'd like to smack her myself for hiding from you, I won't. Mallie never runs from me, and I want to know _why_."

At the reminder of her lack of sleep the past week, Aurora rubbed at her eyes. They burned, and had been cried thoroughly dry. Her father's arraignment had been on the 21st, and the media had been agog at the charges "thrown" at Stefan Rose – including but not limited to 'Murder,' 'Causing grievous bodily harm with intent,' 'sexual assault,' and most recently 'Perverting the course of justice.'

Of course, Aurora had barely seen the lot of it being carted back and forth from the cottage to the police station daily to be prepped for testimony by the Crown Prosecution. In two days, the Defense barristers would have their chance to examine her, and she was dreading every single moment of it. She had been warned many times that her words would be twisted, and her actions called into question by the Defense. The duty prosecutor was practically salivating at the chance to sink her claws in once that interview had been completed; most likely already formulating responses and rebuttals.

Besides the awful stress of preparing for the trial, the cottage had reminders everywhere of the only woman she wanted to see and hold close. Maleficent's scent was in the sheets of the bed, and when Aurora had attempted to sleep on the sofa, her scent had been there too. Opening the cupboards in the kitchen brought to mind her lover's favorite teacup, and second-favorite tumbler – the preferred glass having already broken three weeks ago. When she attempted to get dressed for the first time since her own discharge from the hospital, the closet was filled with Maleficent's clothing too. Aurora had stuck to a rotating choice of clothing since then; jeans, skirts, and shirts she'd grabbed in a whirlwind of tears and curse words.

When Grace had stopped by to discuss why Maleficent was staying away and to gather some clothing and toiletries, Aurora had admittedly zoned out. Each of her denials regarding the state of the current situation had been rebuffed and deflected by the doctor with shocking clarity and ease.

If Maleficent either didn't remember loving her or was no longer comfortable loving her as the doctor suspected, then Aurora would just have to show her.

She would remind Maleficent of their love every single morning for the rest of their lives, if that's what it took.

"What if this is like that stupid movie; the one where that couple erases their minds? They find each other again anyway. It was so ridiculous," Elsa muttered to herself with a visible shudder.

She nodded towards the row house then, and held out a hand. "She's going to be so pissed, but I don't care. Ready?"

Aurora shook her head and stared longingly towards a familiar face that had appeared at the second storey window of the row house. "I _do_ care; that's why I'm here. I love her, Elsa," she whispered. "No matter what."

Sensing the hesitation not spoken, Elsa sighed. "But...?"

"What if she hates me?" Aurora whispered, insecurity lacing her words. A stifled, hesitant noise fell from her lips before she spoke again. "What if she doesn't love me anymore?"

"Now why in the world would Mallie _hate_ you?" Elsa griped, frustrated at the woman who seemed to shrink at the very idea that Maleficent could do anything but love her. She crossed her arms and leaned against the lorry to fix Aurora with a stern glare. "You know, relationships aren't all rainbows, sunshine, and kittens. She's going to get angry with you sometimes, Aurora. There will even be a day where you want to choke the shit out of her, I'm sure-"

Aurora's eyes blazed with hurt at the insinuation and the memory that accompanied it, and puffed up what little height she had against the lanky blonde. "That's not even funny!"

Elsa scoffed and rose to height as well. "Wasn't meant to be, lille," she replied dryly. "Loving Mallie hurts. It's best you learned that by now."

Biting her lip seemed the better thing to do when all she wanted to do was deck Elsa, so Aurora did. She turned back towards the row house, her hands clenching and unclenching in indecision, anger, hurt, fear – so many emotions jumbled up together, there wasn't a name for the final result.

Knowing the blinding joy of Maleficent's love, if only for a moment in the span of her life, was far more gratifying than anything else she'd ever experienced. It was true as Elsa had said – loving Maleficent did indeed bring its own share of pain. But who else but Aurora could soothe that particular pain? Who else knew the torture that her father's insane maneuvering of their lives had wrought?

Every one else _thought_ they understood. Sure, they pitied her and Maleficent's seemingly ill-fated, star crossed love. But sympathy was not empathy, nor was it compassion.

It certainly wasn't comprehension; knowing precisely the moment to run a soothing hand over bare flesh, or when to murmur hushed words of adoration into the curve of an ear. It was evenings kept quiet on purpose to cuddle beneath blankets and read. Their love was a picture torn in two only to be found years later; the divergent pieces of the same puzzle coalescing to make it breathe life once more.

While it was true that Maleficent was different than Aurora, they were still part of the same reality. They'd both been cut cruelly from what life ought to have been by the same puzzle maker.

After minutes of awkward silence between them, Aurora slowly turned to face Elsa again. "Don't pretend to know my pain, and I won't pretend to know yours," she asserted, her blue eyes gleaming.

Elsa seemed taken aback at the sudden bravado, and then gave a satisfied grin. "_There you are_, Feisty. Good, I thought we would be stuck with whiny you forever," she joked to cover her surprise.

"Ugh," Aurora grumbled, and walked around the lorry without sparing another glance. She ignored Elsa's hissing warnings behind her, and strode across the street with purpose until she came to the shiny black front door of 109 North Lodge Terrace.

It took a few moments, but Elsa jogged up to stand beside her. They gave each other a sideways look of support before Aurora reached up and tapped the brass door knocker harshly.

There was silence behind the door for several minutes, and Aurora began to worry that it wouldn't be answered. Just as she was about to knock again, she heard heavy footfalls paired with a thunk in time with every other step advancing towards the front of the row house.

"Identify yourself!" Maleficent hollered from inside.

Elsa snickered, and poked Aurora in the ribs with her elbow. Her eyes were amused, and she lifted a finger to her lips in a request for the younger woman to keep silent. "Open, says me!" she replied in a teasingly heavy accent.

The chain lock slid audibly aside, and the deadbolt clanked before the door opened just enough for Maleficent's eyes to glare out. "It's 'Open, Sesame.' How many times have I told you-"

"Ja, hundreds..." Elsa chortled. "Open says me, Mallie. Come on, let us in."

At the mention of _us_, Maleficent's eyes slid to regard Aurora standing there, and widened perceptibly. "A-Aurora," she stammered. Backing away from the door slowly, she heaved a few breaths.

Taking that as an invitation, Elsa pushed the door open just enough to slide through and motioned for Aurora to do the same. She waited until the doe-eyed blonde had done so before closing it behind them and locking it back up.

Still, Aurora didn't move from the small entry way, seemingly captivated.

Maleficent did the same, standing stock still just past the entrance to the sitting room. She leaned heavily against a cane, and flinched when she finally did move weight from one leg to the other.

It was certainly not the reception Elsa had anticipated, and she frowned at the two before sitting on the stairwell.

After gazing at one another for what seemed an eternity, Aurora and Maleficent both began to ramble at the same time.

"You shouldn't be here, it's not safe! _What were you thinking_, putting yourself in more danger just to come see me-"

"I just wanted to see that you were alright, and to let you know how I felt_. I miss you_, I miss you so much it hurts-"

Lifting a hand to her face, Maleficent rubbed at her forehead and slid the palm over her eyes. Pained exhalations fell from her lips. To the two women present who knew her best, it was obvious that she was attempting not to cry, or yell.

"I love you," Aurora murmured, reaching a hand out towards Maleficent. When no move was made to grasp her hand back, she let it fall back to her side.

Her cheeks began to pink, and she looked nervously at Elsa before looking back to her lover. "Te amo, in perpetuum," [3] she pleaded more than declared.

"You shouldn't be here," Maleficent croaked, her shoulders beginning to tremble. Her hand did not move from its place over her eyes. "It's not safe."

Elsa glowered at the display, and stood up to wrap an arm around Aurora. "Ikke trygt, ikke trygt,"[4] she said derisively. "The girl comes all this way to say that she _loves_ you, and that's all you can say? Besides! Where is Dr. Foley now, Mallie? Who is keeping you safe from yourself today?"

She knew that the doctor had gone to pick up Aurora for her final pre-trial interviews, and that's precisely why she'd spirited the young woman away from the cottage this morning – like ships in the night, and all that.

Her mocking had its intended effect, though. Aurora gaped in shock at the dig, while Maleficent turned away to hobble towards another room.

"Go home!" she hurled back, refusing to turn back around.

"But-" Aurora sputtered, taking a few steps towards the retreating figure before Elsa grabbed at her wrist.

"I said go! Now!" Maleficent wept audibly through her command.

Elsa's hand snaked down to clasp Aurora's firmly and squeeze. "Come on then, lille. Let's leave her as she wishes," she retorted. She was clearly offended by her friend's actions, but even more so at what it was doing to Aurora.

Wrenching her hand away, Aurora then paused to hold back her tears for a moment before she spoke. "_Never,_" she insisted, walking forward to come to a stop just short of the stiff form of her lover that leaned against a doorframe for support, her leg quivering in pain.

"I'll only go for now, because I've said what I came to say. I will never, _ever_ leave you," Aurora whispered, resting her palm on the silken sheen of hair that draped over Maleficent's right shoulder. "I love you, and nothing will ever change that. We'll see each other again soon," she concluded. _After the trial... _

When the shoulder beneath her hand began to shake, she spun on her heel and scrambled through the living room and out of the house. Aurora knew that Elsa would follow, and wasn't surprised when she heard the door slam shut only moments after she had gone through it.

Outside, the day continued on for the citizens that strolled the sidewalks. Blithely unaware of why the blonde woman they passed cried silently while staring up into the bright blue sky, they gave her a wide berth.

Why cry so miserably when it was such a lovely Sunday?

* * *

The hallways of Teesside Combined Crown Court Centre echoed with the chattering of reporters, legal aides, and spectators alike on Wednesday morning. Gleaming, polished wood walls and a shining floor gave away that the court house had been cleaned heavily in anticipation of today.

It did not make Maleficent feel welcomed, or honored. Rather, a feeling akin of attending a three ring circus wriggled its way into her heart and lodged there, and she glared openly at those Grace guided her past as they entered the building from the rear doors, flanked by constables.

"It's alright, it's alright," the doctor repeated in a low voice, attempting to have her focus on it rather than the cacophony around them.

Instead of waiting in the witness rooms all morning as was common, Grace had arranged for her to wait in an adjacent building away from the noise and shouting questions. Now that opening arguments were set to begin, it was necessary to move.

She was witness number one in the Crown Prosecution's long list, set to testify immediately after the defense's opening arguments. _'For effect,_' the Crown's barrister had gleefully planned.

The events of the most recent days played in a loop in Maleficent's mind, seeking to distract herself and find the strength to keep shuffling along the hallways.

Once Aurora and Elsa had left Dr. Foley's home, she'd sought the comfort of the bed upstairs. It was where she had stayed until Grace arrived back forty minutes later, muttering about cheeky young women who liked to play games until she rested her gaze upon Maleficent's rigid form clutching her pillows for dear life.

"_She came by here, didn't she?" Grace asked, worry creasing the wrinkles around her eyes into deep relief. _

_Maleficent buried her face into a soft pillow then. "I love her. I want to love her, but I can't-"_

_A weight settled itself beside her, and a gentle hand laid on the crown of her head. "You can," the doctor's motherly voice overcoming the professional. "You can, and you will." _

"Maleficent Moore!" a bailiff shouted gruffly, jerking her out of the reverie.

She had been leaning against Dr. Foley's shoulder and seated in a small room she did not recognize. Her pulse started to race at the realization, and sat up to look to the wall clock in shock.

Ever calm, Grace laced an arm through hers and assisted her to stand before handing the cane into her waiting hand. "Today is Wednesday, September the 1st," she chatted amiably, her tone to throw off any interlopers from thinking what she said was of any import. "You're about to walk into that courtroom, brave and strong. Your name is Maleficent Moore, and you are afraid of no man in that room."

"I am not afraid," Maleficent agreed. If Stefan Rose tried anything inside the courtroom, nobody could blame her for responding in kind – could they? The idea was preposterous any how; as if he could injure her from his seat.

They moved along the long hallway towards the courtroom, and she was surprised to see it was completely empty now save three people walking towards where she had come from.

She squinted against the sunlight that framed the group from the windows at the front of the courthouse atrium. Maleficent could make out that it was two constables flanking a petite woman, the silhouette of whom she'd recognize anywhere. _Aurora._

They moved closer as she and Grace advanced, and Aurora's blue eyes tearily met her own. She looked frightened and nervous, and it stabbed deeply at Maleficent's heart.

'_Amare,' _she mouthed silently before she could stop herself. '_I love you, too.'_

The look of incandescent joy that filled Aurora's face at that moment would have been gift enough for Maleficent to walk merrily to her death at the end of the hallway.

Beside her, Grace inclined her head as they continued on. "She'll be just fine, now," she beamed, her double entendre not lost.

Two aides opened Courtroom A's enormous doors and stood aside. As the Crown prosecutor stood to call her to the witness stand, hundreds of curious faces turned to gawk.

She did not meet their eyes, but walked straight on with her chin held high and proud.

"_Yes, we will," _she vowed inside her mind.

* * *

1 Lorry – (British slang) A large transport truck.

2 Pisspreik – (Norwegian) Bullshit. Lille – Little one.

3 Te amo in perpetuum – I love you, forever.

4 Ikke trygt – Not safe.


	21. Veni, Vidi, Volo in Domum Redire

**A/N: Hi there, readers! Sorry it took me so long to get this updated. I had an issue with a temporary beta, and then real life got in the way for a couple of days. This chapter is dedicated to dis-connectfic, for listening to my whining off and on for damn near a week, and for assisting in editing and flow when I chose to go unbeta'ed. All mistakes are mine, but I simply couldn't bear to go with the heavily altered version suggested. I miss my regular beta like whoa.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Monster," by Meg Myers**

**"Drowned World/Substitute for Love" by Madonna**

**"After You," by Meg Myers**

* * *

**Chapter 21: Veni, Vidi, Volo in Domum Redire (I Came, I Saw, I Want to Go Home)**

* * *

"Murderers are not the monsters, they're men. And that's the most frightening thing about them."  
_―__ Alice Sebold_

* * *

As Maleficent walked down the aisle of Courtroom A and towards the destination of the witness box, her mind focused on anything it could grasp besides her surroundings. She felt the wandering eyes of the assembled press, legal teams, judge, and jury travel her body – from her clench-jawed face, down to her rigid shoulders and beyond.

The cane she was forced to use for balance was heavy in her hand, and though it robbed her of some dignity, the weight was almost comforting. It could be a useful weapon, not that she expected to need it here. Tightening her grip around it until her knuckles whitened helped to dispel some anger, though.

The stench of fear pervaded her nose, and she wondered for a moment if it was from herself, the gallery full of people, or both.

Words from her her own... teacher, for lack of a better term, came to mind. The man had seen straight through her fears all those years ago in Washington, and had taught her more about the human psyche than any psychology course or shrink ever could.

"_I know you. __There's nothing you fear more than to be reflected in someone's eyes," _he had murmured, sidling up to her at the bar.

Strangely, he laid his hands palm up on the bar top – as if to show her he meant no harm. _"__It doesn't matter what they see; rage, darkness, malice, sex. They'll tell you that you asked for it, and that's bullshit. It cost you dearly."_

Maleficent remembered scowling at him, for his nerve in undressing her so quickly with mere words. It had been weeks since Elsa had caught her there, and while she'd been acquiescent to her room mate's requests to go to class and not drink at home, she could no longer stay away from the place where no one seemed to judge her, or overstep their bounds.

Her teacher ignored the disrespect – a freebie, as it were, for he never tolerated it thereafter – and pushed on. _"__You don't have to be afraid of me, yanno. You and I, we both worry that they'll scream at the monsters hidden deep within our heart; either that, or stupidly crawl inside that same heart and wait to be devoured. "_

She'd been shown how to rebuff unwanted attention by feigning ignorance – to a point. If one returned fire with ice, desire could be doused quickly. Conversely, if she were to respond with snarling glares of her own, it would only serve to frighten... to intimidate.

Fear was a useful tool, but had to be used judiciously. Too much fear instilled into those around you cost more than it was worth.

"_Sometimes, Maleficent..."_ her teacher explained months later, _"it's best to show them a bit of the monster."_

A twisted burning danced across her skin, and Maleficent knew it to be the glare of Stefan Rose's deeply set blue eyes. He must have been seated to her left as she passed the Defense table, but she refused to turn the stare; not yet. She expected Stefan to look monstrous – and vile, incorrigible, sinister, and downright evil. What he wasn't expecting was for her to be ready to fight.

She _could_ keep her face cold and impassive; permit the legal teams to pick her apart piece by piece while sitting in the witness box. But, she wouldn't allow them the satisfaction of such a pliant target.

The nausea that threatened to force her limited breakfast into reappearing only solidified her decision as she stepped up into the box and sat down.

Meeting Stefan Rose's smug gaze head on, Maleficent smiled broadly. Her eyes told a different story; brimming with avowed, scalding hatred. The defense barrister looked as if he might lose his breakfast, as well. Either that, or piss himself.

_'Excellent,'_ she mused, turning towards the bailiff who approached her with a Bible to say the oath.

She would give them fire – today. And then, she would go home.

The bailiff slid the book onto the edge of the witness box and motioned for Maleficent to place her hand atop it.

"I do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," she vowed, while her gut clenched at the falsehood. Her voice did not waver, and for that she was thankful.

The jurors present – seven women and five men of varying races and religions, by their appearances alone – looked on in rapt curiosity as the graying, fifty-something male judge explained to Maleficent what would happen next, as if she were a neonate. Surely anyone alive had watched a court drama or two on the telly, but she sat through the unnecessary drivel as politely as she could.

When the judge had finished with his miniature lesson, he welcomed the Prosecution to question her in their direct examination. It was the same vicious shark of a woman that had tortured Maleficent for weeks on end to prepare her for today's testimony, and her glowing green eyes followed the priggish pacing of the barrister as she stepped around her desk and wandered the bench galley.

It was obvious that the prosecutor was used to drawing attention in this way, as Maleficent noticed the jurors' eyes following her, too. If she didn't so despise Ms. Emily Baxter, Esq., she might have admired the show of skill.

Emily's teeth flashed white as she gave a polite smile towards Maleficent, who in turn smiled back. Both comprehended that they were players on a stage at the moment, and acted as if they could tolerate the other's presence.

"Good morning, Miss Moore," the Crown's barrister greeted cordially. "As the judge told you, and I'm sure you recall from meeting with me before – I will be asking you questions relevant to the case against the person that the Crown believes to be responsible for a number of crimes against yourself and your family. Do you understand this?"

Truly, if Ms. Baxter's coddling tone could have gotten any more obvious, Maleficent might have responded crisply in offense. But, this was the woman that the courts had assigned to present the case against Stefan Rose, so she needed to behave – at least to the jurors' eyes. Instead, she utilized the tone she might use on a Year 8 student, newly moved away to boarding school and crying for their mother.

"Why _of course_, Ms. Baxter," she simpered, and tilted her head just so. When the prosecutor winced for a millisecond before her face toughened, Maleficent knew she had struck a chord. Two could play at this game.

Emily cleared her throat and faced the witness stand with a frown so small it could have been missed by one not looking for it. "Could you please state your name for the court?"

Looking down at her nails, Maleficent adopted an air of calm, though she was clearly deviating from the script that Ms. Baxter had drilled into her for weeks. "Which one?"

The prosecutor laughed airily, as if she found the 'joke' amusing. The jurors laughed as well, albeit nervously, and Maleficent smirked. While it might have appeared that she was subverting the Crown's case, her intentions were quite the opposite. She wanted to dismantle the Defense's line of questioning before the slick man seated next to Stefan Rose had even the opportunity to speak.

"All of them, if you please," the barrister lobbed back, pursing her lips as she began to realize the nature of how her day would unfold.

Shifting in her seat to relieve some of the aching in her still-tender thigh, Maleficent sighed as if the question were arduous to answer. "While most know me as Maleficent Moore since 2004, I was born Lilith Maleficent LaFey. School mates and close friends have been known to call me Mallie," she responded cautiously, wanting to only say it once.

"Mallie..." Ms. Baxter nodded her acknowledgment of the leading answer. "Would some of the medical professionals in the Crown's evidence call you by that name, as well?"

For all of her nastiness in preparations, Emily Baxter was smart. Maleficent had to grant that, following the train of thought fluidly. Emily knew that she was trying to avoid the awful tape that the Defense might use to discredit her, and if they could place doubt in the jurors' minds as to why she'd insisted on being called Mallie in it, they might not think her quite so touched in the head as the Defense wanted to present.

"I suppose so, yes," Maleficent countered smoothly.

Crossing the bench galley in quick strides, Ms. Baxter pointed a manicured finger towards the Defense table. "And do you recognize this man, Miss Moore?"

Maleficent swallowed the bile that had crept up in anticipation of that question and nodded, before staring him directly in the face once more. When Stefan smiled coolly and gave a little wave, she frowned and looked back to the prosecutor.

The man almost looked giddy to see her, and it sent a wave of revulsion through her as she answered. "Yes, I do... That is Stefan Rose."

"Who is Stefan Rose to you?" the prosecutor followed quickly.

"I- uh..." Maleficent looked down at her hands, which had clasped shut so firmly the nails dug into the sensitive flesh of her palms. Her heart began to race, and for a few seconds, it was all she could do not to half-hobble, half-sprint out of the witness box, down the aisle, and out of the courthouse.

She took a few cleansing breaths, and settled into the part of her mind where there was nothing but cold, sharp edges – that desolate wasteland she'd existed in for so many years. It was painful to do so, but the protection she felt in the action was more satisfactory than acting like a coward.

A harshness fell over her eyes as she found the strength to look up once more, and answered the falsely innocuous inquiry. "He was my parents' friend, long ago. Most recently, I suppose you could describe him as my girlfriend's father. _But-_" her voice took on a cutting quality, "-most importantly, he is the man I know to have murdered my parents."

Ms. Baxter stiffened slightly, and Maleficent knew it to be in annoyance. She'd been instructed not to touch on her relationship with Aurora until the Defense did so, so that the prosecutor could redirect after the cross examination. Also left out was what else Stefan had done that night, and she'd purposefully left it there. Why ever the prosecution couldn't simply prove that with the stack of physical evidence they had, along with photographs and forensics, Maleficent could not understand.

"Is that all that you remember of him, Miss Moore?" Emily lead on, and the defense barrister looked ready to strike in objection. "In our previous conversations, you've told me more than that."

"No, that is not all that I remember of him," Maleficent snapped, her temper beginning to show. She allowed it, wanting both Ms. Baxter and those assembled to know that she would not be trifled with, least of all today. "I remember _far more,_" she spat.

* * *

When the jurors' expressions ranged from mild surprise to shock that Ms. Baxter might be badgering her own key witness from the start, the prosecutor knew that she had to take an alternative approach.

"I'm sorry, Miss Moore- " she apologized, adopting a look of understanding. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, so we can revisit that question until a little bit later. For now, why don't we talk about you?"

Looking as though she felt the victor of this little bit of battle, Maleficent acquiesced. She and Ms. Baxter went back and forth for nearly thirty minutes – revisiting her years at St. Augusta's as a teenager, touching upon some of the mistreatment she'd experienced in the group home for jury sympathy, and moving on to Washington DC.

Emily easily maneuvered her prepared testimony questions around the road blocks that Maleficent had sought to place early on. When she began to ask about Maleficent's 'extracurricular activities' in Washington with a small chuckle and a smile, rather than by judging, it took the woman sitting in the witness box a moment to realize that she had wordlessly agreed with laying it all out on the table, so to speak.

It was better to explain candidly and make small of those years, the woman's bleak and despairing time that the defense might flout around as evidence of Maleficent Moore's character, or lack thereof.

While it was true that Emily Baxter did not particularly like Miss Moore, it had been her closed off personality and biting wit during preparations that she didn't enjoy. It made readying for the trial all that more arduous and unpleasant.

She hadn't seen it then, that the woman's snide remarks and boorish, cold glares were a protective facade. Emily had thought, as most of Middlesbrough did, that Miss Moore was simply the most frighteningly strict teacher one could imagine. It had been one of the reasons the town was so very surprised to learn that she'd taken up with a student, let alone the daughter of the man who had supposedly murdered her family, and worse. If there ever was a trope for the cruel school mistress brought to life in a person, it was Miss Moore.

And yet... That was not her at all. It was yet another mask that she wore to survive another day.

Emily even had written testimony from a nun at the school, a self-proclaimed friend, co-worker and erstwhile mentor during Miss Moore's youth there, and referred to it for a mental exercise while questioning the educator. _"Some people would say that Mallie didn't know anything about love, or kindness, or the joy of helping others before she came to us, and that's simply not true. You know, they think that because she's never been very happy. I don't think it's in her nature to be, but that doesn't mean that she isn't capable of loving. She just loves far more deeply and singularly than you or I."_

Sister Eileen had gone on to tell Emily why she thought Miss Rose and the teacher had been drawn to each other – being so very much alike, it was merely a matter of time before the two women found their way to each other, in her opinion. Aurora Rose's parentage seemed to be happenstance, for Emily did not believe in such silly things as fate.

She led Maleficent through a series of questions about her teaching credentials – qualifications that she'd met to become one would show the jury that the woman certainly knew her fair share about psychology, both adolescent and adult. The more that the jury felt comfortable with the idea of Miss Moore as kind, but intelligent and of her own mind, the less the Defense would be able to crumble that image. 'Kind' would have been one of the last words that Emily would have used to describe her, but she needed to convince those watching otherwise.

"Teaching is such a noble profession, Miss Moore," Emily began, trying to make her expression as warm as possible. "Tell me, do you enjoy it?"

As expected, the staid and rigid exterior that had coated Maleficent Moore since the moment she sat down – with slight exception to when she was forced to look at Stefan Rose – melted before her eyes.

A glow seemed to encompass the teacher's sad smile, as her eyes turned glassy. Her alabaster cheeks even pinked a bit, and it was evident to all present the depth of the emotions she was feeling when she spoke. "Oh, yes; I love teaching."

There were a few harrumphs and chuckles from the press at that, but Emily pushed on. "You love teaching, yes... But, I guess the question on all of our minds is, why you were willing to sacrifice losing the opportunity to teach when you took Aurora Rose into your home. You knew that losing your job was a distinct possibility, isn't that correct?"

"I'm not sure I follow," Maleficent replied, a furrow deepening between her brows.

Lifting a bound stack of papers up, Emily identified the piece of evidence in question to the judge and jury, and entered it for their consideration before setting it back down and staring back at the witness box. "Your friends and colleagues have testified extensively by interview that it was quite the well kept secret, your relationship with Aurora Rose. Several of them warned you, and I quote Miss Elsa Arandelle: "Mallie knew that her behavior was against the Catholic Code of Conduct for Teachers, and would be looked at badly by any other educator; but she continued to keep Miss Rose in her care, to protect the girl from her father." Would you not agree with your colleagues' assessments of the situation?"

The Defense barrister, a sly and nasty piece of work by the name of Douglas Vernon, shifted in his chair while Miss Moore pondered the information that Emily had let slide. She'd taken a note from his own book – a way to discredit Miss Moore's character – and was attempting to use it in the prosecution's favor. There wasn't any way for him to object, and that fact gave her satisfaction. If Maleficent was going to deviate from their prepared questions, then she was just going to have to get the same results by the means that the tetchy woman would find worthy.

She seemed to sense that, too. Raising her eyebrow just so, Maleficent smirked so gently it might have been called an affectionate gesture. "I would agree with my colleagues that they warned me, yes. I took no heed to their warnings, because Aurora needed protection. So, your statement, and theirs, are true."

"So, you sacrificed your career – your entire career – over an eighteen year old girl? I find that very hard to believe, Miss Moore. Surely, you must have had some serious misgivings about Mr. Rose when you met him again at the school. Could you tell us about that day?" Emily guided, wanting the jury to see Miss Moore's actions as valiant and admirable, rather than something to be frowned upon.

Surprisingly, Maleficent seemed happy with the request, and settled back in her chair. She regaled the jury with how Stefan Rose and Aurora's ex-fiance had come to the school to carry her off into some sort of arranged marriage, and how she'd hidden the sobbing girl in a custodial closet to lead them off the trail.

"Of course, I recognized him that day," she chuckled. "I knew that I had to get Aurora away as soon as possible. It's why I followed her into the woods that evening... the students had an end of the year party, you see."

The statement made Emily freeze, and her blood run cold. She turned back towards the stand, her eyes issuing a warning she hoped Miss Moore would heed. "You... recognized Stefan Rose that day, Miss Moore?"

Douglas Vernon found the response just as discordant and earth shattering as Emily did, rifling through his papers on the Defense desk while muttering silently to himself.

Her eyes flashing with amusement, Maleficent leaned forward a bit and nodded. "Yes, I did. I knew what a depraved, abominable, corrupt, cold-blooded rapist and murderer he was the moment I saw him walking down that hall," she ground out, every adjective used to describe Stefan Rose more and more deeply voiced.

It was hauntingly painful to hear, but even worse to watch. For every word she spoke, Miss Moore's face grew even more angry, her sharp cheekbones jutting even farther into relief beneath the stretched skin that was the result of her intense, almost vicious scowl. The men of the jury looked anywhere but at the witness box in their shock – the ceiling, their laps, even at Stefan Rose. The women alternately teared up, or held a hand to their chest.

_'Shit,' _Emily swore in her mind. She couldn't accuse her key witness of lying on the stand, but Maleficent Moore had derailed this testimony by leaps and bounds now.

How could she utilize her redirecting examination questions against the Defense regarding Stefan's aging and difference in looks? It was their one play at explaining why Maleficent hadn't known Aurora Rose was Stefan's daughter until much later. It also was to prevent against any commentary on Miss Moore's own subterfuge in her obviously changed appearance since the crimes, though anyone would have wanted to disappear.

Why did the woman very clearly state that she knew Stefan Rose's identity on that day? _How?_

As Emily took a centering breath, her gaze caught Miss Moore's own. There was a kind of delight, a strange sort of pleasure that twinkled in those green eyes at the barristers' predicament in her outright lie.

"_Jesus Christ," _she cursed internally, and tried rationalize what was going on in the woman's head. _"Is Moore lying now, or has she been lying all along during the investigation while pleading ignorance?"_

Totally apprehensive about continuing the testimony lest the witness lead them down another rabbit hole, Emily continued nevertheless. She had to at least attempt to salvage this mess, and kept her voice trained as if she was in on the secrets that were sure to spill forth from the teacher's lips. "If you knew who Stefan Rose was that day, Miss Moore... Why did you not call the police right then and there, instead of keeping it to yourself until the Crown contacted you after our own investigation? Furthermore, why did you go after and protect Aurora Rose?"

Miss Moore leaned back and absentmindedly rubbed at her thigh again, as if the question were beneath her. Her eyes widened just enough, like she was attempting very hard not to roll her eyes. A low, rhythmic laughter fell from her lips, which only broadened in its sinister sounding joy as she finally made eye contact with the prosecutor again.

"I believe that's two questions, Ms. Baxter – but if the judge will allow it?" she asked the gentleman beside her. A crooked grin graced her face, but the gleaming white teeth revealed between her nude lips looked as though they were poised to rip into something, rather than appearing pleased.

"I'll allow it, Miss Moore. Answer the questions, please," the judge rumbled. It was clear that he was set on edge by the witness's strange behavior, and found no humor in the questions that Emily had asked. However, he was altogether curious for the response.

"Of course," Maleficent flashed a grin again, this time towards the jury.

Somehow, that small act made dread settle heavily in Emily's gut.

Blinking slowly as if in profound thought, Miss Moore gave an air of dark, regal beauty. If didn't matter that the woman's hair was twisted messily into a bun, or that she wore no makeup today – two things that Emily would have never expected from the woman – she still exuded a dark allure that was impossible to miss. It spoke of elegance, and it spoke of danger, all in the same breath.

"I suppose the lily-white answer would be that I'd come to love Aurora after tutoring her all semester, and having her in class. Even if I didn't realize it before that day, or immediately afterward, she showed me in the following weeks and months what it was to love someone, and be loved in return," Maleficent pondered airily.

Her gaze had wandered the courtroom during her pronouncement, and finally settled on Stefan Rose for a few moments before it became an almost bloodthirsty glare. "But then, I could also tell you the darker truth. What better revenge on the man who took everything from me than to love his daughter with _every_ _fibre of my being_?" she questioned aloud, her tongue sliding over the last words like liquid silver.

It was enough to make Stefan Rose leap up from his seat and throw an accusing finger towards the witness stand. "I know what you're doing! Stop this, right now!" he seethed madly, face reddening with the force of his rage.

Within seconds, the courtroom became a cacophony of noise and motion. The judge shouted for order, while the gallery chattered loudly at the outburst. Jurors' tongues wagged as they alternately crouched in their seats or waved hands towards the ensuing scene. Bailiffs charged both the defense table and the witness stand; one urging Miss Moore to duck, and the other cuffing a very irate Stefan Rose, to be carted off to a holding room until the judge's favor bid his return.

Emily scurried next to the witness stand, and stood partially behind the bailiff protecting Maleficent. "God damn it, Miss Moore!" she whispered furiously, for lack of anything better to say.

This was the prosecution team's key witness – the woman that had been there _that day_ and lived to tell the tale – and here she was acting like an unmanageable harlot, bereft of any sort of morality, or shame for the situation she'd placed herself in regarding the Rose girl.

The longer Maleficent Moore stayed on the stand, the case would be trashed; Emily was sure of it.

Once a semblance of order had come over the courtroom and the judge asked Emily if she wished to proceed for the day, she promptly shook her head.

"No, your honor. The prosecution has no more questions for Miss Moore," she whooshed out, all in one breath.

The judge seemed to consider this a moment, and tapped his fingers along the bench. "Are you certain, Ms. Baxter? We could take a recess for the day, so that everyone can collect themselves. Due to her condition, I don't think it would be appropriate to recall Miss Moore at a later junction, only prolonging her... suffering," he looked askance at the woman who now sat quite demurely in the witness stand.

The dichotomy in Maleficent's conduct startled both the judge and Emily, and the prosecutor was quick to assure him. "I'm certain, Your Honor. Whatever other evidence I have from Miss Moore, I will get over to Defense in writing, and submit it as written testimony."

While sighing, the judge wiped a hand down his face. This trial was going to be a difficult one; nothing was drier and more yawn-inducing than reading written testimony aloud, and it appeared he knew that. It was rare to see such a practiced legal professional openly admit it through an action like that, though.

Emily could sympathize, and glared sideways at Miss Moore, who pouted back. The sarcasm therein wasn't lost on the prosecutor.

'_You're a damned difficult woman...' _she thought while staring her witness down. _'You know it, too.'_

"The Defense may cross examine Miss Maleficent Moore," the judge announced, waving a hand forward towards Douglas Vernon.

"N-No questions, your Honor," Mr. Vernon stammered. "I'll simply submit my evidence regarding Miss Moore during Dr. Foley's cross examination."

A bevy of press scribbled at their note pads and typed into their tablets at that shocking declaration. The court stenographer looked up in confusion from her laptop, and the sketch artist huffed and set down his artpad, the drawing he'd been preparing now useless.

Maleficent Moore smiled as the judge allowed her off the stand, and limped back down the aisle of Courtroom A.

Emily Baxter watched her go, and grit her teeth fiercely. Months of work had gone down the drain in less than four hours.

The woman to blame hummed an eerily cheerful tune as she was escorted out the doors by the bailiffs.

* * *

Walking past Maleficent and down the corridor as she went her own way towards the courtroom had to be one of the hardest things Aurora had ever done in her eighteen years on Earth – besides what she'd already been through. Every day with her love seemed to contain one more thing that ranked high on the 'hardest things she'd ever done.' It might have irritated most people, but it just made her anticipate the thrill of living out the rest of those days with Maleficent even more.

She had been_ so close_; so very near in fact that Maleficent's perfume had wafted between them, making Aurora's hair stand on end in remembrance. Goosebumps erupted over her skin, and a blush crept to her face as her heart yearned to launch at and embrace the missing half of her soul. Her mind, on the other hand, was far more cautious.

It considered the last time Aurora had seen Maleficent at Dr. Foley's home, and recalled that she'd been sent away. Her heart fought valiantly against the memory, replacing it with the first day that Aurora had met Maleficent Moore.

Though it seemed like a lifetime ago, it had only been just short of a year since that day. One achingly long, painful, stress laden, awful year; but Aurora wouldn't have had it any other way. This was the year that both brought her love, and also taught her the depths of that same love.

She'd never thought she could love someone quite so much. Before this year, the very idea was absurd and absolutely incomprehensible. Aurora had a sneaking suspicion that Maleficent might share the same sentiment.

The woman who strode past her this morning had been wild-eyed; green irises somehow dull against the shock of white sclera, replete with shadowed circles beneath them. She didn't seem to be wearing any makeup, and that fact astonished Aurora more than anything.

Maleficent had been made up elegantly the day they met, lipstick applied with a careful hand. Her eyes had been bright.

Today's surprisingly bare lips formed around silent words as she and Maleficent almost brushed shoulders in the hallway.

_'Amare, I love you,'_ they had said.

So certain was she of that fact that Aurora's entire face had reacted instinctively. She could _feel _the glow that radiated from her own cheeks and eyes. She could _see _how her love's frantic eyes suddenly became resolute and calm in response.

For the first time in forever, her heart refused to feel guilty for it.

She'd spent most of the day locked in a drab holding room with nobody but a court appointed guard just outside the door. Not allowed reading materials or access to electronics, her morning wore on with much thought towards life after the trial.

The more she thought about it, Aurora realized that Maleficent had been right to think about the future. If she'd turned in applications for uni on time, she would have had envelopes stacked in the mail to read, and choices to make. Nursing seemed a likely path, and she smiled dreamily at the thought of helping others while curled up in a chair.

Even if she was accepted to the universities that she wanted, Aurora would need to defer admissions for at least a year at this point. It would be better to let the world forget about who they were, at least for a little while. What would she and Maleficent do? Would they travel, disappear and simply exist to one another for a blissful expanse of time?

Just as she was beginning to doze off into the pleasant daydream, the guard knocked at the door and opened it without ceremony.

"Lunch," she muttered, and slid a tray full of cafeteria style food in before locking Aurora back into the holding room.

The bailiff hadn't been exactly friendly this morning at 7:30AM, but who was at that hour? Her suddenly sour mood didn't quite jive, though. Aurora wondered at what was happening in the courtroom to make the guard so grumpy, and the situations that could be disturbed her.

The wilted salad and chicken patty sandwich hadn't been appealing minutes ago, and it certainly wasn't now. She pushed the tray away after grabbing the tepid coffee off of it. Taking a sip, she was sorry she had. It tasted like dirty water, and nothing made her want Maleficent's strongly brewed coffee even more.

Maleficent always brewed the morning coffee extra-strong, ever since she was told that Aurora preferred it that way. She never, ever forgot that.

That memory brought tears to her eyes, and Aurora wiped them away angrily before plunking the plastic mug of gross back onto the table. It was plainly undrinkable, and while whomever had prepared it might think her a snob, she refused to entertain the idea of even chugging it for the caffeine content.

She hugged her knees back to her chest and laid her head down atop them, mind wandering once more. Thinking of anything but the testimony that had been vetted every which way by the prosecution, and dismantled just the same by the defense during their sessions was becoming more and more difficult.

Ms. Baxter wanted her to steer clear of mentioning anything of consequence regarding her and Maleficent's 'sexual liasons,' or so the prosecutor had deemed their relationship. Her father's barrister was all about exploiting it, and obviously wanted to make the jury think that Maleficent was some sort of evil deviant for it.

Both versions of what Aurora considered the most encompassing and unconditional love she'd ever known made her blood boil. She had no idea how to reconcile what the barristers wanted her to say with what she knew was the truth in her heart. The only thing she knew for sure was that their versions were lies, and Aurora had always been taught never to lie.

Suddenly, the door to the holding room jerked open once more to reveal a very distraught and angry Ms. Baxter. The woman snapped her fingers in irritation at Aurora, and bid her to stand up and come towards her with a wave of her hand.

"W-What's going on?" Aurora yawned and stretched out her back. It was awfully sore, and a quick glance at her watch revealed that she'd napped for just short of an hour.

"We're done for today," Ms. Baxter snarked, and the brutishly short attitude surprised her. The prosecutor had never been anything but nice to Aurora before.

Standing up to grab her purse, she then rubbed at her bleary eyes. "What do you mean, done for today?"

"Come on, come on," the barrister mumbled, guiding her along the corridor and towards the back door of the courthouse. She was walking so quickly, Aurora had to jog a bit to catch up, and to hear what else she was saying. "We've only a few minutes before the press escapes the courtroom, and I want to have you out and in the car to the hotel before they do."

Her mind racing, Aurora couldn't do much else than slide into the waiting unmarked police car with the prosecutor. Once the constable began driving, she turned towards Ms. Baxter with confusion. "I don't understand... Emily, you told me that I might be testifying today. And what are you talking about – a hotel?"

Ms. Baxter rested her forehead against the window's interior and closed her eyes. "You're not testifying until tomorrow, Miss Rose. I have to re-draw all of your testimony, and you'll have to meet with the Defense for a short while in the morning, all thanks to Miss Moore's antics in court today," she groaned. "You can't go back to your cottage, because that's where she is going."

The barrister looked so stressed at the prospect of more work that Aurora didn't have the heart to ask any more questions yet. Instead, she crossed her arms and worried at her bottom lip with her teeth.

Maleficent had caused a ruckus today in court, that much was evident. She was done testifying somehow, and going home... to _their home_, and Aurora would not be there to greet her.

She hadn't realized that tears were streaming down her face until Emily shoved a packet of tissues at her from across the back seat.

"Christ, Miss Rose. Between Miss Moore's mood swings and your own, you're both going to give me a stroke. Please don't do this to me now-"

"-I'm fine, I'm fine," Aurora interrupted before blowing her nose.

"Liars, the lot of you. You're not fookin' _fine_," Emily grumbled so harshly in vexation that she fell back into a heavy local accent, and covered her eyes with a palm. She must have a headache.

Aurora's heart ached for her love, and burned at the accusation of being deceitful. She wished that all she had was a damned headache, and turned away from the barrister with a trembling frown.

* * *

Grace's sedan came to a jerking stop in front of the cottage, and the doctor stepped out of the car smartly before slamming the driver's side door. They'd driven past the police cruiser parked at the top of the property, DS Jordan giving a small wave from inside.

Maleficent sighed, both in relief and consternation for Dr. Foley's silence since stuffing her inside the passenger's side of the car at the courthouse, and during the journey home.

The forensic psychologist tapped her foot as she waited for her to exit the car, so she purposefully took extra time in stretching out the sorest of her legs before hefting upwards to lean on the cane.

"I don't suppose you could unlock the door for me?" Maleficent murmured, and dangled the keys in her outstretched hand.

"I don't suppose you think your behavior today was very helpful, do you?" Grace finally broke her muteness with a biting retort, and grabbed the keys. "Dear God, Maleficent. What was that today?"

Not bothering to answer just yet, Maleficent walked slowly through the slippery gravel and into the foyer once Grace had entered the cottage.

The doctor busied herself in throwing a tea kettle onto the stove and yanking a gallon size ziploc bag full of pill bottles out of the tote that hung from her shoulder.

While Grace began to take them out one by one to line up on the countertop, Maleficent's eyes wandered the cottage hungrily. She hadn't seen it since the night... well, she hadn't seen it in a good while. Shaking her head, she tried to quell the odd feeling that what she was seeing was for the first time at all. This was her home, she assured herself as she walked the length of the kitchen and into the library nook.

Her hands ran over the dusty shelves, and Maleficent's lips quirked at that. Aurora must have been busy; too busy to clean. That ought to have pleased her, but it didn't. It probably meant that her amare had been caught up in the all encompassing strain of preparing for the trial, or something along those lines.

"I have to go to the hotel, and meet up with Ms. Baxter to fix the chaos you've created, you disobedient prevaricator," Grace teased half-heartedly from the kitchen as she awaited her goodbye. "I trust that you can make your own tea and find your way upstairs all right?"

"I didn't... lie, you know. Not really," Maleficent whispered as she made her way over to the stove. It was good to know that Grace wasn't only angry at her, but with the situation. The steam had begun to escape the tea kettle's spout, and it was warm enough to steep her tea weakly. She honestly didn't have enough energy to stand up for much longer, but wasn't about to tell the doctor that.

She wanted to be alone.

Grace hummed under her breath and turned a disbelieving gaze towards her.

Once she'd tossed a tea bag into her favorite cup and poured the hot water over it, Maleficent shrugged. "I just didn't tell them which part of me recognized him."

"Ah," her unlikely friend and caretaker nodded once, lips turning down slightly at the realization of what she was saying. "You've come to accept both sets of memories, then? What about the different emotions that accompany them?"

"I wouldn't go that far," she replied, swallowing two klonopin dry just to spite the naughtiness that threatened to rear her ugly head.

As always, Grace's keen and studying eye figured out in short time what was running though her mind. "Don't be too hard on yourself, hmm? You have to learn how to coexist."

"Have a good night, Grace," Maleficent murmured, shuffling towards the stairs without bothering to wait for the doctor to show herself out. It went unsaid that she was done speaking now, and Dr. Foley would understand.

Climbing the steep stairs of the cottage was far more taxing than she had expected, and once the front door closed gently downstairs, Maleficent realized with a start that Grace hadn't bothered to mention that she forgot both her cane and her tea in the kitchen.

"Fuck," she hissed, leaning against the wall just outside of the bedroom. Maybe Grace had been more offended by her short goodbye than she originally thought.

Faster than she expected them to, the pills she'd swallowed less than five minutes ago began to take effect. Maleficent knew this to be her own fault in only eating one piece of dry toast prior to being carted off to the courthouse, but nothing could have been done to help it. She certainly hadn't wanted to vomit on the stand.

It was only just six o'clock in the evening, and the sun outside still lazed warmly in the blue sky. Still, she fumbled towards the bed and collapsed atop the fluffy white duvet with an oomph. Her leg ached horribly, but stubbornly fluttering eyelids drifted shut. The fast descent into slumber began before she could think long on that particular pain.

The emptiness that sat heavy in her chest, where her heart lay, was far more painful. There was nothing that she wanted more than to feel the young woman who filled her heart with light beside her, safe and sound. It agonized Maleficent to no end that in order to keep Aurora safe, she'd been forced to push her away.

Thinking too deeply on it was causing a war between consciousness and repose. Her hands flailed out as she startled half-awake two more times. In those moments of semi-wakefulness, she'd managed to grasp onto a pillow, and hugged it close to her chest. It smelled of Aurora, and the scent invoked a whimper of recognition.

The swirling gray-blue that lay just outside of her closed eyelids slowly faded to black the more deeply she fell asleep. The fragrance emitting from the softness that she snuggled brought forth flashes of her own sultry laughter, and a bright smile framed by petal pink lips.

"_Are you sure?_" the blonde haloed goddess giggled, almost nervously.

Her dream self nodded curtly, and Maleficent remembered why she'd been so tense. A half-hitch of rope had been fastened taut against the headboard of the bed, which lead down to her left wrist, wrapped in nylon cordage that she'd taught Aurora how to tie into a single column knot minutes before. _"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have allowed it, amare."_

Aurora sat cross legged, well aware of the view it gave Maleficent. She knew that her love's right arm couldn't be tied – the knot would aggravate the old break injury to her wrist – but she wondered about what else she could practice on. _"And your legs?"_

"_No. No, never my legs," _Maleficent insisted, drawing them up and away. Glaring at Aurora's curiosity would do no good, and might hurt her feelings, so she didn't. Her legs had a mind of their own though, and tried to escape.

Testing out the word they'd agreed would halt anything she was doing until given further instruction, Aurora puzzled out the anxiousness she was seeing. _"Okay, okay. Your legs are a Red?"_

A shuddering breath blew through Maleficent's lips as she willed herself to relax. _"Yes, that would definitely be a Red. What happens if I need to be released quickly?"_

"_Freedom!"_ Aurora had joked playfully while holding up a pair of bandage scissors, before setting them back down onto the bedside table.

While the frivolity was refreshing, Maleficent needed Aurora to understand the gravity of what was happening before they went any further. _"Promise me, darling. Placet mihi lenis," _[1] she entreated.

While brushing hair back and away from her forehead in a soothing manner, Aurora's sweet blue eyes eased into comprehension. She leaned down and brushed soft lips ever so gently against Maleficent's own. _"In aeternum,"_ [2] the kiss whispered.

Though the dream scape was lacking in the fluidity of real life, it still punctuated the most unforgettable moments that had passed between them that evening. Aurora's hands had found their way to her skin, teasing with light circles of her fingernails. It had been more than difficult to keep her right hand from releasing its grip from where the rope tied the left to the bed, but somehow the sharp bite of the nylon against her skin was an adequate reminder.

The gentle tickling had soon turned into firmer grazes of Aurora's nails over the sharp planes where hips met abdomen, and the sensation of them digging into the delicate flesh there had driven her mad. It didn't help that her amare was cyclically kissing and sucking between where her neck met shoulder and down to the valley between her breasts.

"Nngh!" Maleficent moaned, while biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.

"_I want to hear you,"_ a hot breath puffed in wonderment along the shell of her ear. _"Tell me what you need."_

She complied, especially when one of Aurora's hands traveled even further down to cup the drenched skin that laid between her writhing legs. Searching fingers mapped their way lovingly around the sensitive folds – too lovingly for her taste, tonight.

For all of her apprehension when Aurora had expressed wanting to experience her this way, she wanted to experience it just the same, carefulness be damned. She could trust this soul - her match - so the words that spilled forth were brutally honest. _"I need you to fuck me already... before I break the bed yanking at-"_

Maleficent's rude commentary had been reduced to a low keening as Aurora's fingers delved swiftly inside her sex. Her back arched away from the mattress, and warmth flooded from the tips of curling toes all the way up to her scalp. _"Yes! Yes, oh yes," _she cried out, incapable of intelligible speech past that.

Time faded away as the heat of Aurora's skin lay against hers. They moved in a rhythm as old as the stars, and Maleficent saw them burst behind her fluttering eyelids. Oh, how she wished she could hold off the inevitable forever, and relish in the delight of how these touches felt even more close to heaven than the gentlest ones.

"_I never knew-" _her little supernova mumbled, seemingly in awe. _"I never knew you could be even more beautiful to me."_

The declaration sent a thrill down her spine, just as it did that night, but Aurora's voice sounded like an echo.

"No, just a little bit longer," Maleficent begged. "Don't go away. Don't go-"

She came to awareness with a gasp, her hands sliding over the duvet in search of the woman who had only seconds been right beside her. Finding nothing but coolness on Aurora's side of the bed, Maleficent curled back up with the pillow and attempted in vain to blink back tears. "Stay," she pleaded.

The bedroom was silent except for the dull thudding of her heart, still coming down from her dreams.

* * *

1 "Placet mihi lenis" - (Latin) Please, be careful with me.

2 "In aeternum," - Always (eternally.)


	22. Labra Lege (Read My Lips)

**A/N: Just a very quick note today to welcome to the new followers. Hello, and thanks for reading!**

**Happy American Thanksgiving!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**The Morning After, by Meg Myers**

**Promise, by Mirah**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Labra Lege (Read My Lips)**

* * *

_"Her heart is of a much harder material: a diamond. Beautiful, but deadly._

_And amid people with hearts of diamonds, _

_it is best to remember that no one is exempt from their malevolence. _

_Not even themselves."_

― Katlyn Charlesworth

* * *

Exhaustion permeated every part of Aurora. She swore that the lingering ache from lack of sleep and security these past weeks even touched upon the tips of her hair. It was evident in the cold sweats that she broke out in for no good reason every few hours or so, pent up anxiety relieved by escaping from her pores.

Detective Superintendent Spencer Jordan came to pick her up from the hotel, just after 5:45 AM – the better to avoid nosy photographers, and better for safety. He blathered on for most of their drive; about how Stella had recovered enough to come back to work on light duty, how the trial would go from here on out, and commented that the second button down on her oxford shirt was hitched up into the first button hole. It was all she could do not to snap at the man, but she managed to nod politely at appropriate intervals to make him think she was actually listening.

It wasn't that Aurora didn't truly care about Stella Goodman's well being, but she had other things on her mind. Her shirt being rumpled certainly wasn't one of them, either.

From the hasty testimony coaching with the prosecution, the subsequent follow up interview with the defense, and to yesterday's marathon of questioning, baiting, and rebutting in court, it had become somewhat clear to Aurora what Maleficent had implied during her own testimony.

The defense hadn't really wanted to deny that Maleficent sought to keep Aurora and drag her down as some sort of revenge plot gone completely mad, but they couldn't allow the jury to think that she'd remembered Aurora's father so very clearly from the start. They couldn't afford that kind of blow to their assertion that Maleficent's memory had holes in it larger than the Parliament building. While both barristers and their teams danced around these issues during her testimony, it wasn't hard to infer. After all, if anyone present in the room knew Maleficent best, it was her; a teary eyed Elsa Arandelle in the gallery notwithstanding.

It was just the thing she'd do, Aurora thought sardonically. Yes, that was Maleficent.

Of course, it was entirely untrue. _It had to be_.

"We're here," Spencer announced, his strangely concerned voice breaking through the fog of her reverie. "Are you sure that you don't want me to go in, too?"

Shaking her head, Aurora sought to reassure the police investigator. "I'll be fine, Mr. Jordan. She's really all bark and no bite," she insisted, while ignoring the disbelieving stare he gave her in return. "Give Stella my best?"

Not waiting for his response, she slipped out of the car and walked over the gravel drive. Her shaky hands refused to cooperate twice as she attempted to unlock the door to the cottage, but Aurora's mind was more determined than her traitorous body knew.

Once inside, she wasted no time in slipping off her shoes and tossing her purse down. Her stomach did flip flops in warning, but Aurora made her way through the small foyer, down the hallway, into the open living area, and up the stairs.

Still early, the sun barely peeked over the horizon. It bathed the home in an almost eerie glow as the shadows now seemed even darker than where the light touched. A similar glow filled the space of the bedroom as Aurora softly padded her way in. The sight that greeted her made a breath hitch in her throat.

Maleficent laid on her stomach, sprawled sideways on their bed. It looked as if a war had occurred on top of the duvet, as it had been pushed aside and almost off the end of the mattress. Sunlight kissed what bits of skin it could find, highlighting the bare flesh of shoulders and a leg as it curled around the tangled blankets. The thigh more readily visible still bore an angry red scar covered by steristrips, but Aurora's eyes skipped over this in favor of looking longingly at the beautiful face of her beloved in repose.

She shimmied out of her pants and crept alongside the gently snoring woman while trying her best not to be a disturbance. A pillow had been thrown to the floor, which she picked up to tuck beneath her chest while waiting for Maleficent to realize she'd come home.

It didn't take long, though Aurora wasn't entirely sure if the quiet murmurs she heard were sleep-talking at first.

"'Rora," a weary voice blurted out, but it was soon followed by another snore.

The first smile in over three days crept across Aurora's lips at her name being spoken instinctively. "Yes, Maleficent?" she whispered.

"-'m here," Maleficent recited drowsily, as if having a conversation within a dream.

Snuggling just a bit closer, Aurora felt tension melt away from her muscles as her own eyelids began to droop in fatigue. "I'm here, too," she mirrored back.

Though it would have been heavenly to slide into the sublime comfort of sleep next to her love, the sun became brighter and brighter through the bedroom window as the minutes passed. Resigning herself to simply relax wasn't a hardship, though. The worn-out but still breathtakingly beautiful woman burrowed into the space around her, unconsciously draping a leg closer. A thin and delicate ankle slid to rest upon her own, and Aurora felt their pulses coalesce over the next few minutes. Soon, they thrummed in time from the contact.

Her gaze traveled upwards from their entwined legs, and to the soft rise and fall of Maleficent's back and shoulders while she breathed. Contentment filled her heart as she watched, for the simple fact that the airy sighs and exhalations meant that the woman was not only alive, but doing well. It meant that those who had sought to end these precious noises had failed, and not her.

Now her thoughts turned to whether she could convince Maleficent that they were winning this uphill battle together. Over the course of their relationship's many different incarnations, one of them had always been attempting to save the other. If they were going to not only survive this, but live happily afterward, then they needed to be a united front. There was little that frightened Aurora more than losing her.

She'd been so very afraid of life before Maleficent Moore drew her out of a hastily constructed shell of self-preservation and denial. Therefore, Aurora was resolved to do the very same in return. Loving the woman passionately came as second nature. It didn't require a decision so much as it required following the invisible tether that seemed to bloom from her chest, connecting to her fiercest protector.

When first dropped off at the steps of St. Augusta's by her father, Aurora had been closed off to the aspects of life that mattered more than oneself. She pondered a bit that it had been for her own good; growing up in Stefan's household required a certain level of detachment to keep from going crazy for the need of love. It was easier to become cold and outwardly shy to mask the pain from so many years of his yelling, her mother's tears, and the nannies' chafing strictness. The fact that Maleficent had determinedly sought to open her up, bit by bit, until given the chance to throw open the doors of Aurora's heart – and then tried to close them for her safety – spoke of the woman's vast affection for her.

Maleficent could be selfless, and yet so very selfish – all at the same time.

An arm drew up from the bed to encircle her body. Maleficent's eyelids blinked rapidly over bleary, but piercingly verdant eyes, and she grunted in irritation. She was trying to wake up, but it seemed she was having trouble doing so.

"It's okay," Aurora whispered. "Go back to sleep. I'm just resting."

_'-and thinking... a lot,' _she groused to herself. She'd spent nearly a half hour trying to rationalize how there was no way Maleficent told the truth on the stand. She wasn't the kind of person to lie without a very good reason. She was dignified, and benevolent, and...

But then, a niggling bit of doubt made itself known in the recesses of Aurora's mind. The memory of the note that Maleficent had scribbled while at the hospital and had delivered two days after Lenny Brewster almost killed her refused to be ignored.

Once Maleficent began to snore softly again, she slipped out of the bed and crept along the floor to a bag that carried her college applications, and the strange letter. Aurora pulled it out, wincing when the paper crinkled noisily in the silence.

Her shaky hands unfolded the paper, and she began to read it for probably the hundredth time. The revelations from Maleficent's testimony made it read so much more differently than before. It made so much more sense.

"_Aurora,_

_I've always been the type of person that says too much, and yet not enough. In that vein, I apologize for the length of this note, as well as the scattered way my words seem to come. _

_From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were made for me, and I for you. I truly had no idea why until much later, but you seemed to sense it too. Perhaps that is my own wishful thinking, but you always call my bluff, and know when I am being secretive or manipulative. Never one to call my own actions into question, for I trust myself and myself only in this life, I was pleased to be your instructor, your guide, and then your lover._

_But then what was the purpose of my own game? I saw you as something to conquer; or at least, whatever was holding you down. I knew that the chance to win was slim, it's true. _

_Until most recently, I rather liked who I had become. But what am I to do with who I've been? To see the shadow of myself sitting there, happy with the empty life I'd given it, put more fear into my heart than I'd ever experienced before. _

_How could I do the same to you? How can I reconcile gifting you with this life, full of danger and pain?_

_When I found out who you were, my purpose in this world became so very clear. When you are taken from me, by my own pushing away or dragged from my hands by another, it pushes an invisible knife so deep that it completes a slow kill begun so many years ago. I doubt you would understand what it is like to watch yourself die more and more each day, while birthing a whole new woman at the same time. Turning your own life on end, and the perilous situation I've put you in, is as close an approximation as I would ever want you to know. _

_And for that, I need to go away from you, if only for a little while. You are still so very innocent, my love. You are my innocence. _

_Yet I know, much of what has occurred was done by me, or at least set off by my own actions. If I'd had the courage to let you be when you flew from me the first time, I might have merely mourned you, and tried to forget fate. It was my mistake not to, but I did not understand how very much you mean to me._

_Oh, but I did understand. I knew so long ago, and herein lies my dilemma. I know it was wrong, and that my own suffering is due to my own sins. My thin disguise only prolonged the inevitable, and now you know the cruelest parts of my pain. Now you know the depraved nature of your father, a thing no daughter should ever have to be forced to accept. I'd merely set out to save you from that, or at least lessen the blow-"_

Aurora blinked in disbelief, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She gripped the note so roughly that it began to crinkle much more loudly than before, and the noise was soon followed by the rustling of sheets.

Looking up, she saw Maleficent propped on her elbows and leaning against a hand. The woman gazed back and forth from the missive to Aurora's face, her expression ranging from surprise to wariness, before finally resting on sadness.

"You lied," Aurora murmured, but there was an edge to it, as if incredulous that she had missed this huge piece of information all along.

Maleficent had the good sense to look nervous for a moment before licking her lips. "Not quite," she answered, her voice still gravelly from sleep.

While shaking the note in the direction of the bed, Aurora frowned, and her lower lip trembled. "You either lied to me, or you lied to the court."

Still, Maleficent's reply was vague. "That's not precisely how I would put it-"

"Then explain it to me!" Aurora yelped, while leaping to her feet. She began to pace, and her breathing came in heavy puffs.

A minute passed, and there was still no words of defense or explanation from Maleficent. Finally, she sat up in bed, and reached out towards the frenetic young woman wearing a hole in the carpet.

Her face gave away that she felt agonized, and all Aurora could think was that it was a fitting punishment, either way. Emotions that she had withheld for far too long threatened to burst forth at the painful realization that the teacher's deceptions could extend to her, even after she had let the earlier transgression of hiding her true identity slide.

It wasn't as if that particular information was withheld out of malice, but this? This she wasn't sure about. She did not go towards the hand that bid her to come, but stopped pacing to lean against the closet door and cross her arms. "For someone who is so calculated with everyone else, you sure are laying it on thick with me."

Maleficent inhaled sharply, and her outstretched hand retracted like she'd been burned. She looked down at the sheets that had fallen from her torso, and lifted them back up, as if shielding her nakedness could protect her from Aurora's righteous anger. "I always-" she paused, and shook her head as if disagreeing with such an implicit description. "I... endeavor to always be truthful with you, darling one. My emotions are included in that."

Aurora snorted, and began to turn away.

"_But-_"

The severe quality of Maleficent's rejoinder had Aurora turning right back to face her. It irked the younger woman that just one word when properly toned could hold such power, and she huffed.

At _almost_ the appropriate respect shown her with the action, Maleficent gentled. Her voice now low and almost crooning, she sought Aurora's eyes with her own. She did not want to be misunderstood – not when it mattered the most. "But, I have never wanted to cause you pain."

While rubbing at her forehead, she continued. "I may have... stretched the truth in court, to get a rise out of your father. Lord knows he deserves that, and far more from me," Maleficent muttered. "It is true that I knew who he was when I saw him in the hallway that day. I just didn't know what he had done to me, or my parents. I only suspected, and had done for a very long time. I also suspected that he was your father, and a quick peek at your student file told me as much."

A strangled noise escaped Aurora's lips as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't under-"

"Let me finish, please," Maleficent interrupted sharply. Her mouth drew down in a show of temper, but only for a moment. She knew being exasperated with Aurora wouldn't solve anything. "Do you honestly think that fifteen years went by without my grandparents' firm doing their own private investigation? That I wouldn't wonder who had done this to me?"

Her hand traveled broadly from her neck to where toes peeked from beneath the blankets. Not waiting for an answer, she rambled on, becoming more awake and animated as time passed. "My parents were not well liked for their convictions, Aurora. There were a few outspoken groups of competitors that the firm focused on, and your father's was one. They doubted it was him, because I honestly didn't remember Stefan being at my birthday party, or what happened that night past being dragged from beneath my bed until... recently. I knew what had happened, but not how."

"It is-" a hitching breath paused her discourse. "It is horrifying to know how damaged you are, but without much recollection as to why. I only had my gut feelings and intuition to go on for so long, and while its served me well, emotions are hardly one hundred percent accurate."

The misery evident in Maleficent's voice when she described how the one thing she relied on to navigate the world was not something she could trust explicitly made a twinge of sympathy settle in Aurora's chest. Her lover had described herself as the only person that she could ever trust in the letter, and yet here she admitted that was faulty at best. She took a step forward from the closet door, and decided that sitting at the writing desk would be better for both of them. The emotional climate swirling the room was tense, and she hated it.

Once she sat down, Maleficent released a huge sigh of relief and allowed her eyes to close. Their lids still shook with unshed tears, and her eyelashes became noticeably damp. "Thank you," she whispered.

Guilt ebbed at the edges of Aurora's mind, threatening to wash away her ire like a wave does to sand. She pushed the feeling away, and tucked her knees up beneath her chin while in the chair. It muffled her response, but she hoped that Maleficent would hear her anyhow. "Sorry. I'm mad't you, but I'd nev'r leave. Not for'ver, anyway."

That admission made a sarcastic little smile crack across Maleficent's lips, and she choked out a laugh. "And there you have it: the reason I feel so wicked for keeping you."

That piqued Aurora's interest, and she sat up a little more. "You feel guilty for keeping me because I'd never leave?"

"Mmmm," Maleficent hummed, and nodded a bit. She stretched her leg out and over the side of the bed, wincing and grunting as her thigh flexed. The other leg followed suit, and she scooted to sit on the edge of the mattress, closing the space between them once more.

She continued to grasp the edge of the sheet up to her chest, the cotton draping over her form. "I knew something was amiss with your home life Aurora, something that was drowning your light. Your last name isn't precisely common; but as I said, I made sure my suspicions were correct. It made me feel even more protective of you, especially when you begged to be hidden in that day. My gut told me many things the day your father and Phillip came down that hall, and again when I went to pick up some of your things."

"What did it tell you?" Aurora wondered, though she had an inkling of what the answer would be.

"It told me that your father was as I had always read about him – cruel, and positively evil," her lover bit back. "It told me to follow you, to never let him to take you away. It is why I trailed you into the forest the night of the party, and why I took you home. When the police called me to the station to tell me that your father was implicated in the... murders, I was faced with two very unpleasant choices. Should I continue to keep you safe, or should I push you away because I was livid that the girl I had protected was the progeny of the man that had taken everything dear to me?"

Used to puzzling out things with Maleficent, and uncomfortable with the conundrum, Aurora's mouth blurted out what came to mind first. "You did tell me to go away that night. Screamed it, actually."

"I did. I've pushed you away several times. But every time, I have gone after you. At first, it was because I coveted you, amare - your sweetness, your purity. When I knew what your father had done, it made me want to possess you even more," Maleficent admitted, a blush creep up to her cheeks.

"But I loved you then, and I love you still. My covetousness turned into treasuring you, but it never really made the guilt go away. Then, the night in the forest... when I hurt you; I could no longer pretend that the hatred I felt for your father did not color what I felt for you. It always has, even when I didn't remember everything." Her mouth twisted into a grimace, and she fell silent.

While her memories may have returned, and the pieces of her shattered mind being put back together piece by painful piece, Maleficent still didn't feel entirely comfortable revealing to Aurora what happened in those moments of unconsciousness. She knew it was inevitable, and filed that conversation away for another day.

Meanwhile, understanding bloomed in Aurora's watery blue eyes. "So, you gave me a chance to be free. _You_ went away this time, and tried to tell me in the letter, but-"

"But again, I failed at complete disclosure. My words, they twist so," Maleficent grumbled. "I fear that so many years of duplicity has addled me to that sorry point, but there it is."

"You seemed so surprised when you found out it was my father, though," Aurora countered, scoffing under her breath in frustration. "You were furious."

Maleficent's shoulders shrugged in a jerking, instinctual way. She released her grip on the sheet, and it fell a bit from where it wasn't tucked beneath her arms. Looking down at her hands quieted her response.

"I was more furious at myself, you silly beastie," she murmured, and then tsked. "Infuriated with myself for not seeing the writing on the wall, as it were. I felt like such a blithering idiot, especially for allowing you to get so close to me; for allowing you of all people to crawl inside my heart to make a nest. Letting you go at that point would have been excruciating, for I already loved you so much."

Aurora was familiar with shame, and recognized it in the way the words spilled forth. However, the validation of Maleficent's love, even through all of the times she could have scorned her, made the blonde smile despite herself. "You still lied to the court, then."

"I didn't lie, not really. I just didn't explain it to them as I have to you; a small technicality," Maleficent smirked.

The appearance of a smile on Aurora's face had her spirits lifting by its mere presence, and she knew that their moment of crisis had passed. She did not expect it to go this easily, though she had been expecting it for some time, knowing the testimony would reveal that something was glaringly wrong to the girl. It had only taken two days for her to come home and confront the issue, and Maleficent was pleased with the short turnaround. Her dearest was intelligent – much smarter than anyone else gave her credit for.

When the silence stretched between them for a few beats, Maleficent could no longer hold back. She wanted reassurance that her honesty was not in vain, and reached out again towards the sunshine bright woman that brought light and joy to the darkest parts of her soul. "Please," she pleaded. "Please, amare..."

Exhaling harshly, Aurora then stood up and grasped the hand offered. "I'm still mad at you," she warned. She tried to adopt the best imitation possible of the teacher's sternest glares, but her lips wavered from a smile, into a frown, and back again. "Very, _very_ mad."

"Duly note... Mmph!" Maleficent's teasing reply was hushed with the sudden pressing of soft lips upon her own. Her vision was filled with a smattering of golden curls and glittering azure eyes before she was very unceremoniously pushed back against the bed.

As Aurora straddled her and kissed even more fervently in an attempt to receive the same back, Maleficent's lips ached to give in kind. Her mind, on the other hand, raced with a million reasons why going along with this was a bad idea. They had only just finished hashing out something particularly distressing, and she knew it was what fueled the younger woman's brashness. Aurora sought to cover up the hurt she must be feeling, and the stress. The trial was far from over, and so many more things that might upset them could come up.

Sensing the reluctance, Aurora did not stop. Instead, she merely slowed the shower of kisses and moved across the edge of Maleficent's jaw and up to the edge of her ear to nip at the lobe. She hadn't thought it out very much, and tried not to groan in disappointment when she felt the woman beneath her pushing at her shoulders.

"Aurora," Maleficent moaned, both a touch of warning and need lacing the appeal. "Slow down. You're angry."

Angry she was, and Aurora's acknowledgment of the fact came as she scraped her teeth down the smooth skin near the earlobe that begged to be nibbled some more. The hips under her jolted upwards, which didn't help the situation any, but she ground herself down even more. A hiss of astonishment came from Maleficent's clenched teeth, and she thrust her lower body up again. It wasn't an invitation join in the sensual action, but rather demanded it to stop.

Her lover was holding back, and that burned far worse than Aurora's anger. "Why?" she demanded fiercely.

In awe at the persistence, Maleficent's eyes widened before she raised an eyebrow. It dared a challenge to her wisdom, and garnered Aurora's attention just long enough for her to roll them over. She gave a long look of reproach to the young woman that uttered a curse for being foiled. "I seem to recall a time when you would at least hint at defying me before you did."

When Aurora wriggled away from her and towards the headboard, her face crestfallen so quickly after being so deliciously fiery only moments before, she sought to explain. Sliding over to draw the stiffening woman into her arms again, she then kissed the edge of her forehead, just beneath the hairline. "Oh, amare. I want you, I do."

Passion fleeing along with the deflation of her anger, Aurora asked again, but quietly. "Then... why?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Maleficent cuddled Aurora close beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around tightly. "My leg - it's not healed much, and I feel hobbled and-"

"Fine," Aurora muttered, and snuggled her face into the crook of the neck she would have liked to bite, but that moment had definitely passed.

Knowing that the real issues were far more complicated than an injured leg - which could certainly be worked around - Aurora still conceded. She reached down to draw the tangled sheet over their bodies, and closed her eyes.

Laying together at the very least was comforting, and she could admit with a small degree of difficulty that her abruptness had been due to wanting to possess Maleficent, the way that she had described wanting to possess her. It had stoked a fire, that statement – and ought to have felt completely wrong – but it felt so right. A yawn worked its way up her throat, and she released it.

The hands that had grasped around her torso relaxed to rub lovingly once she had, and Aurora yawned again. "D'you promise to hold me until I fall sleep?"

"Always," Maleficent assured, and ran a soothing hand through her tangled blonde waves.

She would have given Aurora a thousand promises to make up for this morning, and gave herself one as well: Never again would she let her amare go.


	23. Deus Aliter Visum (God Decided Otherwise

**A/N: There are some graphic depictions of violence in the last part of the chapter. I've saved it for last so you can skip it if reading about assholes getting what's due to them bothers you, or if strangulation and/or stabbing is triggering to you. **

**Otherwise, enjoy the fun and smut in parts I and II! **

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

"**Light Me Up," by Birdy**

"**Thank You," by Dido **

"**I Want My Innocence Back," by Emilie Autumn**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Deus Aliter Visum (God Decided Otherwise)**

* * *

They moved through the cottage like two opposite ends of a magnet – unable to part from one another but unwilling to come too close. Gentle smiles followed their stolen glances while they dressed. Eventually, they made their way down to the kitchen and orbited each other while making a very late brunch. Few words were exchanged since waking; the sounds of cooking and the scraping of flatware across their plates making the only noise during the semi-silent accord. It ought to have seemed tense, but both women were at ease with this rare moment of tranquility between them.

Maleficent convinced herself over the very late brunch that she was doing so to give Aurora the proper space she needed to digest the morning's information. Even so, she knew that their simple meal of toasted muffins and eggs over medium had been a joint effort. "Thank you for helping," she whispered over the edge of her tea cup. Her eyes brightened by the minute with the caffeine.

Aurora admired the clarity that befell those eyes. As of late, she'd become used to seeing them addled by anxiety, pain, lack of sleep, or a mix of the three. Mimicking her partner in their odd dance, she chose not to comment on the change. The guilt that laid in her heart for pushing so hard upon her arrival home made the mild praise feel more like a glowing accolade – and she felt undeserving of such. "Well, you fried the eggs."

"Indeed, I did," Maleficent nodded, and sipped her tea again before looking away.

Just as Aurora finished her last bite of muffin, there was a timid knock at the front door. As Maleficent's eyes slid to stare at her cane and her hand came out to grasp it, the young blonde shot up from her stool at the kitchen island.

"I'll get it, I'll get it!" Aurora stammered, waving her hands frantically towards her lover.

It was hard not to cheek back at Maleficent's doleful glare, but her hasty retreat into the foyer made it even easier. She knew that the woman would follow her; as she always did. Still, she wanted to answer the door; intent on doing whatever she could to make the day go more smoothly for Maleficent.

She peeked out the peep-hole in the old wooden door, and hefted it open when she saw a woman smiling pleasantly on the other side. Whomever it was had passed DS Jordan's inspection, so she wasn't so much apprehensive as she was curious at the odd feeling of d_éjà vu_. "H-Hello?"

The woman was in her mid-fifties, or so it seemed. She was dressed well, but simply. Her short mousy brown hair had been coiffed in waves quite common to ladies her age, but her blue eyes sparkled with joy when she looked at whom had answered the door. They teared up when she peered over Aurora's shoulder, anticipating the woman who accompanied the step-thunk behind her.

Aurora could feel Maleficent's warm exhalations on her neck once the tell tale noise of her arrival stopped. A hand crept around her waist to pull her a bit closer, which made her blush and grin at the same time.

"Checks," the woman chuckled, realizing at Aurora's quirky smile that she hadn't identified her quite yet.

Recognition dawned on Aurora's face, and she smiled even more brightly. Suddenly, their visitor was all too familiar. How had she missed the strength in the woman's eyes; the fierce frown lines that creased her forehead and cheeks?

Maleficent swayed a bit beside her. Digging her nails into Aurora's hip for balance, she then blew out a deep breath. "_Eileen?_ My God, Eileen…"

The nun nodded with a sniff, and then looked down at the front stoop. Beside her feet laid a quilted bag, full with what appeared to be crockery. "I've brought some food, you two. Some of your favorites, actually."

Her tone didn't request entrance, but was assumptive that she would be afforded it. A gimlet eye was all the petition she gave, and it made both women back up to give her space to walk through the door.

While Maleficent started to protest regarding the food, Aurora crouched down to take up the bag and opened the door wider for Eileen to enter. She grinned into the palm of her hand and turned away as Eileen and Maleficent traded a sharply worded tete-a-tete about the goodies.

Walking down the hallway and into the kitchen, she could hear the two older women following at a more leisurely pace. If Aurora remembered anything about Sister Eileen, it was that she liked coffee – a lot. Students used to say you were sure to be dead in the water if you raised the nun's ire before she'd had her morning coffee. The first thing she did after placing the bag of delicious smelling food onto the kitchen island was to turn and pour a cup of coffee for the well meaning visitor. Then, she began to unpack the food.

Once she had, Aurora found herself biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud when Maleficent argued about no longer eating chicken. Enlivened by the sudden arrival of Eileen and feeling a bit feisty from the overwhelming feeling of mirth from it, she slid the casserole that looked like chicken, broccoli, and rice covered with gobs of cheese over the counter towards her wildly argumentative lover.

The aroma already had her salivating, and instantly had a blush creeping onto Maleficent's cheeks. At once, all the fight in the woman's glittering eyes seemed to die out in favor of staring longingly at the food.

_'Yep, that's the favorite,' _Aurora mused and smirked.

Eileen winked so quickly at her, it could have been a blink. She grasped the coffee cup that had been pushed her way and took a long swing before issuing a litany of smart retorts again. "How in the world has she not wasted away living with you, Mallie? What, you think eighteen year old women can live on love alone?"

As Maleficent inhaled sharply at the jab, her eyes took on an quarrelsome gleam once more. Aurora was quick to interrupt, stepping between the two women to cut off their line of sight from one another. She knew that there was a lot being unsaid, though Eileen had been quick to address the biggest elephant in the room only moments ago.

"Why..." she wheedled, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. "Why don't we just sit in the living room, and find out what brings Eileen to our door today? You know, catch up?"

"An excellent idea, Miss Rose," the older woman tittered, and swept her hand towards the living room. "Well, Mallie – lead the way. It's your home, after all."

If one was completely unaware with how Maleficent and Sister Eileen interacted on a daily basis, or hadn't observed such on a semi-daily basis for nearly a year, they might have thought the gesture insulting. Thankfully, Aurora knew how the two communicated and traded barbs often during her stay at St. Augusta's, and swiftly picked up the nuances.

While Maleficent rolled her eyes and began to hobble towards her chair by the fireplace, Eileen grabbed the forgotten tea cup on the counter top, and pointedly looked at the casserole before meeting Aurora's gaze. She then bustled into the living room to take her place on one of the stiffer side chairs that boasted a side table, but not before placing the tea cup on the ottoman at the center of the room.

While Aurora knew that Maleficent and Eileen had known each other a long time, it appeared that she hadn't quite comprehended how long that was. The nun knew how to corral the teacher into thinking she had control, all the while taking it. She had compelled Aurora wordlessly to scoop three helpings of the casserole into bowls, and the young woman walked into the living room to dole out the food before she realized she'd done so without a second thought. Too focused on the bewildering intricacies of behavior between the two women already seated, Aurora found herself amused at the revelation.

Sitting down in her own chair nearest Maleficent, she watched as both bowls of food were placed aside in a silent battle. Not one to be quite that stubborn, Aurora took a huge bite and made happy noises while grinning at their visitor.

"I see you've managed to calm her down a bit," Eileen muttered and looked at the wall for a moment. "White hot ball of teenage terror, just like you."

At that pronouncement, Maleficent began to chuckle. Her face turned more red by the second, and her elegant facade quickly dissolved into fits of chortling punctuated by a snort here and there.

It seemed to be the moment that Eileen was waiting for. She cracked a smile and began to laugh as well, clutching her gut before wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's truly a wonder you haven't strung each other up by the toes. Thank God you can abide, even in your differences," she gleefully deduced.

Aurora choked a bit on her bite of casserole at the joke, and took a quick sip of her coffee to wash down the shame creeping up her throat. No, they hadn't strung each other up by the_ toes_.

"S-So... why have you come to check on us?" she stammered, set off her confidence by the way the woman seemed to know what buttons to push. Seeking to get back on equal ground, she blurted out a question that had arisen in her mind the moment she realized Sr. Eileen was dressed in plain clothing. "-and why are you not dressed in your habit?"

Eileen simpered at the questions as if they had obvious answers, and took a sip of her coffee to stall. "By the very nature of your curiosity, I presume that you two haven't been following the happenings via telly. Well, then," she pursed her lips, seemingly satisfied with that.

"The trial went quite poorly for your father today. The prosecution dragged out their list of doctors – from the medical examiners in the 1998 case and the current woman, quite the smart young lady. Oh, they went though the horrible pictures, DNA samples, and even the official stamp of sanity from Dr. Foley for you, Maleficent..." she hashed out, a sad edge to her voice. "Mr. Rose, on the other hand, was described as quite the unsavory despot. Mad as a hatter, if you took Dr. Foley's word."

She cleared her throat then, looking uncomfortable before leaning forward to place a supportive hand atop Maleficent's knee. "Robin came to watch the trial with me today. Mallie, we suspected from what little the DCFS files told us – but my word. Why did you never-"

"_Robin_, hmm?" Maleficent interrupted, her teeth clicking with the force of the feelings she was hiding. Her leg slid away from beneath Eileen's touch, though she grunted in pain. It wasn't readily apparent to either Aurora or the nun if she had shrugged the comfort away out of resistance for the subject matter, or because the thigh truly pained her.

Aurora placed her bowl aside and drummed her fingertips nervously against her own thigh. "Who is Robin?" she questioned, confusion wrinkling her nose and brow. Whomever the man was, he had known Maleficent as long as Sister Eileen had – which seemed to go back to when her love was a student herself at St. Augusta's.

"Monsignor Flaherty," both Maleficent and Eileen answered at once, before giving each other an uneasy stare.

There was a beat of silence before something close to humor lit up Maleficent's face, and the corners of her mouth turned up. "Finally?"

Eileen scoffed, and leaned back in her chair. "Yes, finally. Do you honestly think we could stay with the diocese, knowing how they refused to help you or Miss Rose?" she hissed, the temper that students had nightmares about beginning to rise. "We left. _We had to leave_ – and went straight to the police station to enter our testimonies-"

"-Right after you stopped at the courthouse to be married," Maleficent smirked, and raised an eyebrow towards the diamond solitaire ring that had joined Eileen's silver band of vocation, worn on her left hand instead of the right. [1]

"Yes, well," Eileen sputtered as she rubbed at the rings. "We can't _all_ live like we've escaped the Garden of Eden without shame, Lil... Mallie."

The slip of her tongue had the woman blushing, and she sighed heavily. "I apologize. I certainly can't fault you for wanting to protect Miss Rose, at the least."

"So wait," Aurora squeaked, and lifted a hand into the air to be acknowledged. She then waved if off to appear nonchalant, and frowned. "You and Monsignor Flaherty... _Oh my God!_"

Decades of ingrained religious etiquette had Eileen smacking lightly at Aurora's knee, and she tsked. "I'll not have you take the Lord's name in vain because I couldn't keep to _my own_ vow of chastity, young lady."

Aurora's gaping look of shock at Eileen's blatant admittance to the goings on between both she and Maleficent had the women laughing uproariously once more.

That is, until Eileen slapped Maleficent's knee as well. "Hush, you heathen," she teased.

Maleficent startled and glared at the hand. Tense seconds ticked on the mantle clock while she decided what to do next. In the end, ignoring the good-natured ribbing in favor of picking up her bowl of food to shovel a spoon of it into her mouth seemed like the best option.

It kept her from pushing away one of the dearest friends she thought she'd lost over this entire situation, and it made Aurora smile and sigh in relief – a good decision, indeed.

* * *

Eileen had finally left the cottage after four hours of regaling Aurora with tales of a young and naughty Maleficent; fraught with a thrill for disobedience and danger that always set the Sisters' teeth on edge. Both she and _Robin – _how strange it was to know the former monsignor's true name - had tried to take the young woman under their care and tutelage. They were aware that the headmistress at the time often waited with bated breath to beat the spark out of Maleficent at the end of the day, as her phone rang off the hook hourly from the schoolteachers' offices regarding the exploits of the troublesome youth.

Reminiscing on it ought to have been funny, but the more Eileen described, the more tense Maleficent became. Aurora suspected that Maleficent never told Eileen or Robin the extent of the beatings, or the neglect that she'd suffered afterward. Her girlfriend at twenty-nine was a proud, brooding sort – it wasn't a stretch to imagine that the teenager had been much different. It hadn't been your run of the mill 'spare the rod' discipline either, from what she already knew to be true from Maleficent's stories earlier in the summer.

Frankly, it paled in comparison to the discipline Aurora had received growing up. Looking back on how she'd felt about her nannies before, she felt embarrassed and somewhat ashamed for thinking she had it so badly – no matter how much Maleficent assured her after Eileen left that there were different ways to kill a child's spirit, and that they'd merely experienced the opposite sides of the same coin.

Now, she lazed in their bed to read a book of Sylvia Plath poetry found beneath the bedside table. Maleficent had wanted a bath to relax, and sternly rebuffed her offers to help. Aurora secretly knew that it would eventually be asked for anyhow, so she had acquiesced without much ado.

"Ehm, Aurora..." Maleficent called from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Yeeeeeeees?" she drawled, folding over the edge of the page she was reading.

The bullheaded woman cleared her throat loudly, but didn't utter anything further. Water sloshed over the bathtub and onto the floor if the noises that followed were any clue, and Aurora rolled her eyes.

Placing the book on the table, she scurried to the door and opened it before Maleficent could slip and fall. Fast as she was, she was greeted with the sight of her lover attempting to crawl her way to standing, hands grabbing at the wet bath tile while balancing on one leg.

"And I'm the stubborn one..." Aurora muttered, and carefully made her way towards the tub with a towel. The floor was slick with suds and spilled bathwater. "Don't move."

Maleficent huffed indignantly, the sound at odds with the shivering, drenched mess she appeared to be. "I wouldn't dream of it. It appears the only thing I managed to keep dry was my incision, and we have the waterproof suture bandage to thank for it."

Humming in agreement, Aurora wrapped the towel around Maleficent and helped to guide her out of the tub. She then wrapped her arm around the taller woman's waist, and they shuffled slowly together into the bedroom. "Can you manage to dry yourself off while I wipe up the floor?" she joked.

With a low grousing and a half-hearted frown, Maleficent sat on the bed and nodded towards the bathroom.

The frown threw Aurora – hadn't the woman specifically said she didn't want help earlier, and only begrudgingly allowed to her assist in exiting the bathtub without falling arse over tit? [2] Perhaps she really _wanted_ her to help, but didn't want to appear weak.

_'A-ha,' _Aurora thought, a smirk tickling her lips. She licked them instead, and blew a mocking huff herself. It earned her one of Maleficent's non-indulgent glares, and her girlfriend's lips drew even further down into a scowl.

Maleficent knew she'd been found out.

"You took care of me. Let me take care of you, too," Aurora cooed, running her fingertips up and down the bare flesh of her love's arms. The bathwater dripped along them, making delightful trails for her to follow along.

"You always take care of me," Maleficent groaned, but the goosebumps that ran in the wake of Aurora's touches gave away that she was enjoying the touch.

Shaking her head in disagreement, Aurora leaned forward to take the towel and rub it over the shiny brown strands of hair. "Only because you always take care of me. You've killed to protect me, and nearly died for it. My _hero_," she grinned playfully.

"I would do it again, all the same," came the muffled reply from beneath the towel as Aurora ruffled it across the front of Maleficent's face. It was serious, and not joking; giving the young woman pause once more.

"I don't want you to," Aurora whispered as she lowered the towel into her lap. Reaching up, she tucked the silky waves that covered Maleficent's face and breasts behind an ear and over a shoulder. "When this is all done – the trial, and whatever we need to do to get Tara – I want us to go away. Far, far away, where no one even knows us."

When Maleficent only nodded encouragingly and slid a bit to close the nearly non-existent space between them, Aurora smiled and rambled on. "I want... a family. You and me, and Tara too. After college, maybe a ba-"

Her discourse was cut off by Maleficent leaning forward to hesitantly press their lips together. Aurora fell against the kiss with a breathy sigh of approval before responding with a bit more force, wanting it to be quite clear that she craved her _without_ hesitation.

Licking across a luscious bottom lip, she waited until her love's mouth fell open in her own happy little sigh to beg entrance. It was granted, and it made her heart sing with gladness that the day's earlier awkwardness and anger had been short lived. She needed Maleficent, more than the woman knew, or needed her – and she was filled with the desire to show it.

Breaking their languid, dreamy kiss to lift her shirt over her head, Aurora then nudged her way between the curtain of chocolate brown hair and pale skin to nibble and suck at Maleficent's neck. She continued to run her hands up and down the woman's arms, unwilling to push further without expressed consent, this morning's lesson well learned.

Pleased murmurs were punctuated by shivers as she took her time, and eventually cool hands found their way to her waist to tug her close.

"I don't know," Maleficent wondered aloud, her intake of breath towards the end sharp, and unsure. "We haven't since, and I don't know if I can."

Freezing at the admission, Aurora took a few gulps of air before sitting back to meet Maleficent's eye. It was hard to hide her disappointment, and her hands ached when she removed them from the satiny soft skin they'd so enjoyed only moments ago. "O-Okay. Um," she bit her lip, and looked away. _'Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry, Aurora.' _

One of the hands that had been holding her waist came up to grasp Aurora's chin, turning her to face Maleficent once more.

There was worry in the woman's eyes, and in the twilight outside their bedroom window, the irises' green color faded into endless fathoms against the stark white that edged them. There was also sadness, adoration, and undeniable love.

"What I mean to say is..." she began to explain slowly, as if it hurt her. "I don't know how to ask you to. There's so much to navigate, and I'd never expected you to unless you wanted..." Maleficent gasped and shuddered, becoming frustrated with her inability to communicate the feeling properly. She'd never been one to mince words before. Why then was this so hard? "I want you to... I can't..."

Stumbling over her explanation was making her angrier by the minute, and she covered her face with both hands to hide her humiliation. Was it so very difficult to tell Aurora how the honesty about wanting to possess, and possibly even corrupt her, now sent tendrils of guilt to choke at her heart? She loved this woman, and she had hurt her. Forgiveness had come so easily, and she felt wholly unworthy of it. Even if Maleficent had set out to protect this innocent soul, she was convinced to have surely blackened it with her pitiful misrepresentation of a life. Especially, and most importantly, once she remembered what had happened all those years ago.

"You want me to want you, and you're afraid that I don't anymore?" Aurora whispered, a chiding edge to her words. She crossed her arms, and then uncrossed them to jut her chest forward in boldness.

Her cheeks did not flare with the usual warmth of a blush, which only hinted at the strength she could feel in her gut. She needed to show her determination right now, that was obvious. "Because of your leg? Who do you think I am-"

"Not because of the damn leg! Although that's... Ugh!" Maleficent sputtered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I _hurt_ you, your reputation, and I kept things from you. My intentions weren't always honorable," she croaked the last bit, willing Aurora to understand.

Aurora tugged at the hands that hid the beautiful face and wrapped them behind her shoulders. Entering Maleficent's space, she rested her forehead against the woman's own, and relished in the soft pants of air that came from her mouth. "You kept it from me because you loved me. You still love me, and I forgive you. Let me show you."

Nuzzling their noses together, she began the process of kissing and caressing her love once more. As the minutes went by, her hands soothed over the planes of Maleficent's shoulders, upper arms, ticklish ribs, and waist. Aurora purposely circumvented the more intimate areas just in case, but found small victories in each muscle that melted into relaxation beneath her touch.

"Lie down with me, please?" she pleaded between tender kisses to the woman's closed, but trembling eyelids.

As they did, the sore subject of Maleficent's leg made itself known. She couldn't rest on her regular side of the bed without putting pressure on the wound, and spun herself to face away from Aurora.

"I can't see you," she grumbled, wiggling along the sheets in displeasure. "I can't touch you like this."

"All the better, don't you think?" Aurora smiled against the defined edge of a shoulder blade before running her fingernails along it. "You want me to want you, and I do. Just enjoy it..."

Stiffening slightly beneath her wandering hands, Maleficent choked out a humorless laugh. "This isn't penance. Your love is hardly punishment, dearest one."

Aurora shook her head, and reached around the leg nearest her. "Can you lean back some more?" she asked, all the while guiding the leg back to hook ankles with hers.

It left Maleficent somewhat twisted, but the warmth of her amare's body behind her own was comforting. She looked sideways at the ceiling, and blinked rapidly. "It doesn't hurt, no."

The view this position afforded stunned the younger woman into silence as she looked yearningly from the graceful expanse of neck, down to where it met a fine collarbone. Just over that was the gentle rise and fall of breasts that were capped in eagerly pebbled nipples.

When Maleficent wriggled to snuggle her bum closer, Aurora latched back onto the exposed neck to nibble some more. It caused the woman's chest to heave during a low whimper, and Aurora's gaze zeroed in on the delectable breasts once more before traveling down the long slope of her lover's side to where it met the swell of her hips.

She tucked an arm beneath them, and reached around to cup the breast closest to the bed. Rubbing her thumb lovingly over the peaked nipple made Maleficent arch into her touch with a gasp, and a rush of adrenaline swept through Aurora's veins.

Knowing that you had power over someone – that they implicitly trusted you with it – was one thing. The inclination to be grabby, or to rush in her hunger to see the woman fall apart in her arms was quite another. While the feeling grew, Aurora squashed it. Closing her eyes, she blew out a long breath and placed feather-light kisses to Maleficent's spine. This was her mercy, her pardon, her love.

She pressed her palm flat against the roundness of Maleficent's lower abdomen while rubbing her own aroused body alongside her. It set off another round of stilted moans and blissful mumbling, and as Aurora's tender, affectionate ministrations wore on, Maleficent leaned more and more into her embrace.

It was a glorious show of faith in Aurora, and she ran her fingers up the taut stomach to stroke the other breast that she'd yet to love upon. Plaintive curses echoed the air of their bedroom, interrupted here and there by pants and groans.

"Please, amare. _Please,_" Maleficent whispered hoarsely.

The entreaty kindled the flames already licking their way along Aurora's veins, her skin flush with the simmering emotions that accompanied being the one in command. She slid her hand down to rest atop the downy haired sex that had been avoided to draw out their first moments of intimacy since being parted. Her fingers twitched with impatience, sinking more deeply into the soft tufts that were normally shaved down to bare skin. Before she could help it, she requested more. The fire _demanded_ more. "Please what?"

With a frustrated whine, Maleficent bucked her hips to push the damp curls against Aurora's hand. It seemed involuntary, for as soon as she had done it, the woman gasped as her leg stretched from it's vice between Aurora's legs. "Love me. Do _something_!"

Burying her face into the sweetly scented waves of Maleficent's hair to compose herself, Aurora then released the leg to drape it widely over her hip. Her hand came back and through parted legs, finding the sensitive folds once more before parting them. Fingers dipped between to rub at the silken flesh, guided by the swaying of their hips to find what felt good... and what made Maleficent throw her head back with stuttered moans so loud they made the tips of Aurora's ears burn.

Their rocking together eventually maneuvered her first two fingers into her lover. It was all Aurora could do to bite back a moan herself, but she didn't succeed very much at that. The noises fueled Maleficent on, and the steady rhythm of their lovemaking abruptly became more rapid, as did the frequency and volume of her crying out.

"I can't see you," she suddenly wailed. "I need to see you!"

Any other lover might have been confused or annoyed at the request, but Aurora knew that even the strangest things verbalized by Maleficent had a very good reason. She didn't stop, or even slow her pace. She merely laid her cheek beside the woman's, so close their eyelashes might have touched while blinking.

As Maleficent closed her eyes and smiled between two gasps, Aurora knew that she had understood what was needed. She moved to kiss wherever her lips could reach – the corner of a mouth, a salty, tear-streaked cheekbone, and even the edge of an elegant jawline. What had begun as a fairly steady back and forth below was quickly descending into interspersed rolling and jerking against her palm.

Sensing that her beloved was on the edge, Aurora pressed her thumb down and matched the pressure inside by making a come hither motion with her fingers. As she did so, a gush of wetness spilled forth, hotter than even the scorching heat of the skin that surrounded her digits.

In her arms, Maleficent writhed and called down the heavens. With a final arch of her back, she appeared to come apart at the very seams – awe and wonderment forcing her eyes wide, and her lips into an 'oh!'

"Yes, oh..." Aurora murmured into the shell of an ear, just as amazed by the haze of bliss that enveloped their shaking bodies like a warm blanket.

* * *

If there was anything that the English justice system prided itself on, it was the accommodations and dignity afforded all prisoners on remand while awaiting and during trial. It was a rare day that those accused of crimes but not yet convicted were not able to roam the complex as they pleased. They could attend classes for cooking, typing, and woodworking, read newspapers, books, and magazines, watch television, or even exercise in shifts in the grassy, secure yard. Even allowed their own clothing and shoes while on trial, the law specifically forbid the jailors from treating them as guilty prior to conviction.

For all that, Stefan Rose was quite the critic of the system. Tonight he wanted to be alone, and the guards seemed to sense it. They gave the grouchy man a wide berth.

Truthfully, Stefan much preferred being alone all of the time. He despised being forced to reside among what he considered low life scum in HM Holme House's Remand Centre. The evening shift for the exercise yard had begun at 7:00PM, and there was nothing he wanted more than to pace along while plotting his next moves.

Court had been a disaster today. He was growing increasingly irritated with not being able to defend himself until called to the stand, no matter what the quacks on the stand spewed forth. His newest barrister was a limp noodle compared to Carey, and for a fleeting moment, Stefan bemoaned having issued the order for his... permanent removal from employment. He didn't regret killing the man, no – he simply rued the difficulties brought upon himself for having done so.

Chuffing along the fenced area towards the shed in the back where the ashtray was bolted to, Stefan lit a cigarette. You couldn't smoke or keep lighters inside the facilities, but the guards and "guests" of the Crown often exchanged conversation over a cig or a chew outside once they'd picked up their 'smoker kits,' from the vestibule between the main area and the yard.

Once at the shed, he turned to view his surroundings. Out the doors the rest of the men who had signed up for 7:00PM exercise poured. Two of them struck up an animated exchange with the two guards on staff, and from what he could hear, it was complaints about work detail. One wasn't required to work while on remand, but could if money was needed for mail or commissary.

Stefan snorted at that. He'd continued to work for his firm from inside, as was approved by the Crown. Nothing would change on that account, so long as he was alive.

"'Ey! Got a light, mate? We's out of matches," a short, unassuming bloke with black hair asked before sidling up to him. Four other slim men stood waiting behind him, their cigarettes out and ready. The closest to the leader was by far the tallest, and he smiled grimly.

"I suppose," Stefan conceded, and handed his lighter down the line. Little favors granted like these might make the men think better of him, and less apt to attack – or so he'd been told by the barrister.

"I'm Charlie," the fellow introduced himself. "From Leeds, yeah? Down the line – that's Baum, Terry, Chance, and Fred. Don't think I've seen you on the 7 Yard [3] 'fore."

Squinting his eyes in appraisal, Stefan nodded and folded his arms behind his back to appear larger. "Yes well, my name is Stefan."

Sideways glances passed between the group of men as they smoked. "You would'n be Stefan _Rose_, would'ja?" Baum inquired, looking off into the distance towards the exit back into the main remand centre.

Unable to see a problem with being known for who he was, Stefan gave a non-committal shrug. "What of it?"

Charlie spoke up now, his cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. "Don't you got a daughter or two? One that's eighteen and a wee one?"

Puffing up in pride at the fact that his reputation preceded him somewhat, Stefan took a drag of his cig and ashed it onto the grass. "Yes. Aurora is eighteen, and Tara is eight."

Nodding stiffly, Charlie rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. "I got a daughter too. Wanna know 'bout my kid?"

Before he could utter another word, the small group of men converged around him as if only standing closer to the ashtray, but they effectively blocked his view of the guards. Baum had swept behind to wrap a shoelace across his neck, and yanked it tight as Charlie leaned in so close that his reeking tobacco breath brought tears to Stefan's eyes. It was becoming very clear to him that these men knew _exactly_ who he was, even before the introductions and niceties had been exchanged.

"My daughter's name is Jo. I call 'er Jo, but her ma' named her Josephine. She's the light of my life, Stefan," Charlie conversed, oddly relaxed and at ease.

When Stefan's hands came up to reach for the shoelace, Charlie tilted his head towards Baum once more. The lace tightened, forcing a gurgling exhalation from their new friend's mouth.

"Don' move, you idjit," Baum rumbled, and wrapped the length of cotton around his palms for good measure. "Terry, Chance – grab 'is hands. Fred, yer on lookout."

The group did as they were ordered, and wave of icy fear ran down Stefan's spine. The guards were still distracted by the door, most likely on purpose, so that this entire conversation could happen.

Charlie brought a hand from his pocket, and showed a sharpened shiv made of melted plastic. "Yanno, my Jo is fourteen. So when Baum and me was watchin' telly earlier and the talkin' heads was goin' on and on 'bout how you diddled some fourteen year old kid and near strangled her to death on top of a puddle of her ma's blood," he chuckled low and whistled, "I said 'Baum, that nonce [4] best hope he don' come on my yard.' Didn't I, Baum?"

Baum laughed gruffly, and clenched the shoelace around Stefan's throat a little more tightly. "Right you did, Charlie."

"Now, I been down [5] before – robbin' is my thing, but I ain't put it past myself to do the Queen a favor in ending you," Charlie leered towards the purpling face the man he considered to be lower than shit on the bottom of a shoe.

He spit in Stefan's eye before nodding to Baum to strangle the man some more. "Does it hurt, you pikey arsehole? [6] I hope it hurts like fookin' hell since I can't do what ya' deserve for real. I ain't scum like you."

Spittle had long begun to wheeze out of Stefan's lips, which now verged on being blue from asphyxiation. He could feel himself becoming lightheaded, and Baum slapped his head roughly when it began to loll against his shoulder.

"Nah, you gotta wake up now. Take it like a man," Charlie grit his teeth. "You cut a little girl, so you take it like she did."

The shiv stabbing into Stefan's abdomen in three rapid thrusts didn't cause any of the other men in custody to notice – not that they cared. It hadn't been particularly loud thanks to the ligature wrapped around his throat, rendering him unable to speak or scream. Daylight began to fade behind the jeering faces that surrounded him.

"Prop 'im up next to the shed and tie the lace to the doorjamb, Baum. Fookin' stupid guards will think he did it 'imself," was the final thing Stefan heard before white noise filled his ears, and he began to lose consciousness from blood loss.

The cold shiv being slid into his clenched fist was the last he ever felt of this life.

* * *

1\. Vocational ring – Nuns are given a simple silver ring to wear upon taking their perpetual vows for vocation, to symbolize they are married to Christ. They wear this on their right hand, not their left.

2\. Arse over tit – British slang, meaning "head over heels." When one falls in a tumbly way, or rolls while falling, they go arse over tit.

3\. 7 Yard – Exercise shifts are typically given nicknames by prisoners. 7:00PM yard time is commonly called 7 Yard.

4\. Nonce – British prison slang for a sex offenders, particularly those who abuse children. The Rule 45 section of British prisons in which sex offenders are segregated for their own safety (also known as going on 'The Numbers' or, in rhyming slang, 'The Cucumbers') is often referred to as the "nonce wing." While in remand awaiting trial, nonces are not segregated as they have not yet been convicted.

5\. Been down – Been in custody/prison before for a previous crime or accusation of crime.

6\. Pikey – White trash. Ironically used by the lower classes to describe posher folk's rude manners.


	24. Dilabi in Translationi

**A/N: This chapter is quite angsty. Lots of details are stuffed inside, **

**but I'm so happy to introduce a (semi)new character back into the story. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

**"Family Jewels," by Marina and the Diamonds**

* * *

**Chapter 24: Dilabi in Translationi (Lost in Translation)**

* * *

"Secrets, silent, stony sit

in the dark palaces of both our hearts.

Secrets weary of their tyranny,

tyrants willing to be dethroned."  
_― James Joyce_

* * *

_Aurora rolled around her bed, startled awake by the loud booming voice a few rooms away. Her eyes popped open in fear, for it was rare that this particular voice raised in anger. Whenever it did, it meant something very bad was happening._

_Stumbling out of her bed, her feet then shuffled along the plush white carpeting of the bedroom and into the hallway. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned, intent on finding out what was the matter. No matter how many times Aurora was told to stay away when the yelling happened, curiosity always got the better of her. _

_Just as her hand pushed the already ajar door of her parents' bedroom open, her father unleashed another tirade. _

"_-and I will not tell you again, Leila! Do not question me in this!" he snarled, and raised a hand in the air over the woman she knew as her mother. _

_The woman did not cower away, but glared bravely at the man wielding the threat of violence. "How many times must the Crown tell you no, Stefan? She's sick, and I don't want her under this roof! What of Aurora? You would have a mentally ill teenager around Aurora?" _

_Her father began to pace the room, still unaware of Aurora's presence just outside. Yanking at his hair in frustration, Stefan was unhinged. It was so strange to see him this way. The calculating man hated to yell, and hated to show emotion. "You don't understand. None of you understand-"_

"_Then help me to understand," her mother bit back, the statement more of an accusation. "I know she has money. She's a pretty little thing, or at least she was..."_

_The underlying implication sent Stefan into motion so fast, he looked like a blur. His hand flew out to meet Leila's face with such striking speed that the woman had no chance to block it. _

_Her beautiful pink lips – Aurora would never forget them, or their smiles – turned down into a grimace as blood spilled from a split that now marred them. She didn't try to run away, but gingerly touched the injured part of her face while sucking in a shuddering breath. _

_Aurora gasped aloud when her mother's teary green eyes met her gaze. She'd never seen her father actually hit someone before. _

"_'Rora, sweetheart..." Leila whispered, a tinge of fear now lacing the words – not so much for herself, but for for the five year old shaking like a leaf outside the door. Something very dangerous had been seen, and overheard. _

_Turning away from her mother, Stefan's icy blue eyes cut straight though to Aurora's soul. The young girl was frozen in place, and unable to produce a single sound as he picked her up by the forearms with a vice-like grip. _

_She did not whimper as he wordlessly promised punishment with that raw, enraged stare. She did not make a peep as Stefan marched her, stiff as a board in his arms, back to her bedroom. _

_Only when he had deposited Aurora back in bed, and made a clear show of locking her door before slamming it shut for effect, did she let herself cry. _

Those cries got louder as time went on, calling out for her dead mother. Aurora's heart raced painfully, and she clawed at her chest in vain. She'd never had this particular dream before, and the reality of the memory crashing down upon her left her breathless. It took at least another five minutes to stop wheezing. She wasn't in London, nor was she a little girl. She was-

-in Maleficent's empty bed, shivering with the cold sweat that coated her skin. The sheets were just as cold beside her, and a whimper escaped through her chattering teeth. Where was Maleficent?

Her stomach rolling with loathing and an uncanny sense of dread from the dream, Aurora stumbled her way downstairs. Half way down, she heard the quiet murmurs of the woman she sought.

Her body was wracked with shivers of adrenaline while she searched for the source of the soothing voice of her love. "Mal? Mal..." she cried, hands gripping and ungripping in a futile attempt to hold onto someone still unseen.

She found Maleficent just inside the library nook, seated with her back turned. The iPhone was pressed against her ear, and the robed woman leaned against a shoulder to hold it there, while she hunched over and hugged at herself.

"I don't understand," Maleficent ground out in disbelief, interrupting herself and repeating words in her confusion. "How could he - No, don't answer that. I don't understand..."

"Mal," Aurora sobbed, unable to wait any longer to be acknowledged. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving hot trails that spoke of the crushing shame she felt. "Maleficent, _please_."

Jumping out of the chaise lounge, Maleficent finally turned around. Her eyes were red and puffy as well, as if she'd been crying long before Aurora even realized she'd gone missing from their bed.

"Oh! Ah..." she cut off whomever was on the phone. "We'll... we will be down later."

The cell was dumped unceremoniously onto the chaise from her hand, the red 'End Call' button flashing. Reaching out towards Aurora with a beckoning motion, Maleficent walked a few steps to close the distance between them.

"Oh... oh, darling. Shhh," she crooned once Aurora had snuggled into her comforting arms.

Hiccoughing her tearful lament into the crook of Maleficent's neck, Aurora couldn't push the strange conversation she'd overheard out of her mind. Surely, anything was better than beginning her morning by telling the horrors of her nightmare straight out of the gate.

"Who was that? What's going on?"

The hands that were stroking her back stopped, and hugged Aurora more tightly against Maleficent's chest. Unsteady breaths jostled her, as did Maleficent's sudden shaking of her head.

"Maleficent? I asked you... what's going on?" Aurora croaked. The dread that had settled in her gut now flared with foreboding.

Repeating her question seemed to bring Maleficent back to the present, though Aurora wasn't sure where she'd gone for the minute or so that they'd rocked together in this strange consoling dance.

Her hands were taken up and squeezed before Maleficent made her way back to the chaise. Aurora allowed herself to be led along, and sat down as well.

Silence stretched between them, and Maleficent finally relinquished her hold to wipe the back of her hands across her face. "It's over, Aurora."

Such an open statement could mean anything, Aurora thought.

The trial was over?

That made absolutely no sense, though why else would Maleficent be crying? Were these tears of relief, of cathartic emotion finally being released? "I don't understand," she found herself saying, much as Maleficent had while on the phone.

Turning her bloodshot eyes to face Aurora, Maleficent gulped. The motion seemed to pain her, as if she were swallowing knives. "Your father is... Stefan is..."

And then, it all made sense. It was over, because her father was no longer available to prosecute. It was over, because her father was dead.

No matter how much Aurora hated her father, and wanted him to suffer every bit of pain he had put them both through, his death shook her to the core. It wasn't as if she felt sorry for him, or that she _wanted_ to grieve him.

That was all true, but there was another truth far more important. She was alone in this world. Tara was alone in this world.

Maleficent cupped a hand over her mouth, and screwed her eyes shut. "I'm so sorry, Aurora. So very sorry-"

Her mind unwilling to comprehend what this information meant, Aurora's body took over. A foggy sort of feeling invaded her brain, rendering her incapable of thought past instinct. It was disorienting at the very least – the odd way her other senses picked up on the miasma blocking the words that screamed to make their way to her lips. As if someone had smacked them, her ears stopped hearing Maleficent's sniffling and replaced that noise with a high pitched squeal over the slow glug-bump of her heartbeat.

Standing up slowly, her hands came out in a defensive gesture. That astonished her most of all, and she stared at the shaking, sweaty palms in confusion while backing away from the library nook and into the kitchen. She felt cool hardwood underfoot instead of warm carpet, and stumbled to regain her balance.

Why was she afraid?

Maleficent followed, her hands held out in a mirror of Aurora's. The anguished expression on her face told Aurora what the woman was feeling, even though she couldn't understand the words that were coming from her moving mouth.

Some of them broke through, if only for their volume. Maleficent's face morphed from shocked to stricken as Aurora continued to retreat. Her cheeks scrunched under the force of what must have been her screaming.

Why was she screaming? Why did she have to yell?

"Stop, stop..." Aurora wheezed. The reverberating noise bounced against her non-compliant ears to echo in the growing void. Her heart began to race in response, forcing a rapid delivery of norepinephrine to join the residual adrenaline from her dream. "I can't breathe!"

Just as the fog thickened and threatened to consume her mind whole, darkness crept in from the edge of her vision. Aurora knew that she was falling – the kitchen turned on end, and Maleficent rushed forward, aghast with fear.

"Aurora!"

She finally heard the sound of her name falling from Maleficent's lips, and her world went black.

* * *

"I told you, I'm fine now. I was just..." Aurora shrugged, her attitude becoming more sour by the minute.

It had taken an hour of reclining on the couch with tea and cold compresses for Maleficent to entertain the idea of her sitting all the way up. Permission had not been granted until she had insisted to the point of agitation – the increase of which had Maleficent backpedaling quickly – that she wanted to be left alone. "Just go and get ready, please?"

Maleficent had looked wounded for a heartbeat before steely resolve washed the hurt away. She limped up the stairs without a backward glance, though Aurora didn't know for what precisely until her love emerged back into the living room some time later.

Fully dressed, Maleficent carried clothes for her to change into. The clock above the mantle told Aurora an hour and a half had passed.

She must have fallen asleep, but tried to shrug off her surprise at the impromptu nap – anything to keep Maleficent from fussing over her.

It hadn't happened so much since school had ended, and there were times when it would have amused her. At the moment, it would have been disturbing. Aurora knew why; of all days to have an awful dream, it had to be today. She missed her mother fiercely. As much as she wanted to forget the dream, clinging to the memory of the woman in it was winning out.

"Amare?" Maleficent questioned, her face becoming worried at the amount of time Aurora sat stock still, lost in thought.

Whispering her reply, Aurora stood and turned away to change out of her pajamas. "Thank you."

The pained smile in response to her thanks came from impeccably painted red lips. Even though she couldn't see them with her back turned, Aurora knew. Looking at Maleficent now would cause another pang of guilt to gnaw at her already nervous stomach, so she didn't.

Aurora had grown used to seeing Maleficent during the past month or two with her hair messy, and without makeup. Truthfully, she much preferred it.

While the clothes brought down to for her to dress in were appropriate – opaque footless tights and a black tunic dress – they had been chosen for comfort.

In stark contrast, Maleficent had attired herself in one of her more rigid, serious skirt suits – black silk shantung, paired with riding boots instead of the heels she couldn't wear yet. Her face was completely made up, all the way to the heavily winged eyeliner and mascara that had once mesmerized Aurora. Now, she knew it to be a mask. It was a pretty one, but a mask nevertheless.

Merely four hours after her harrowing nightmare and news of Stefan's death, Aurora found herself wobbling stubbornly towards the blue Jag. The gravel of the driveway wasn't helping her unsteady balance, and Maleficent half-scrambled, half-limped to throw a supportive arm underneath hers. They were a mess this afternoon; both unstable mentally and physically.

"No, no. We'll take the sedan today, hmm?" Maleficent murmured, and pulled her close against her side.

Any other day, being tucked under the towering woman's protective arm would have been a pleasure, and a balm to Aurora's sore heart. Today, even her girlfriend's touch made Aurora want to crawl out of her own skin and run screaming. She wouldn't have gotten far, even though Maleficent had tucked her trembling feet into her favorite jeweled flats on their way out. Everything felt too tight, and too much.

So entrenched in her thoughts, Aurora did not notice that she'd already entered her side of the Lexus and closed the door. Dark, silky hair tickled at her throat as Maleficent leaned over to buckle her in, and she stayed quiet until they were well on the road.

* * *

Half an hour passed while driving down the highway, and Maleficent smoked three cigarettes. Aurora lit one too, and she imagined it was due to the silence between them.

That got Maleficent's attention. It wasn't like Aurora to be so very quiet. "I know you're upset, darling. It's normal to be sad and-"

"-I'm not sad," Aurora shook her head vehemently, and took another puff. She glared at a tree in the distance, obviously trying to avoid direct eye contact. "I'm pissed off. I'm so pissed, and I don't have the fucking words..."

_'...to say that there's no justice in this world,' _Maleficent finished for the both of them, though her lips pressed together to keep it in.

Instead, she nodded her head and simply agreed to allow Aurora the floor. "I'm angry too, you know."

Her gaze slid to look at Aurora from beneath her sunglasses. She took one breath, and then two – waiting for the inevitable.

"You should be angry! You're not acting like it, though! All cool and collected, once you had a good cry. '_Oh, yes – we'll be down later!'" _Aurora exploded, her hands waving about in frustration. "Like we're going to tea. And here I'm acting like-"

"-Like your father just met his very untimely end," Maleficent concluded, and cleared her throat.

Predictably furious, Aurora railed against the sugar-coated fact. "Ugh! It wasn't untimely, Maleficent. The bastard had it coming!" Smashing her cigarette butt into the ashtray, she then crossed her arms to stare out the window once more. "You and I both know there's no way he killed himself. I have no idea how you're not freaking out right now."

Maleficent did indeed know that, or at least suspected it. What Aurora didn't know – and Maleficent wasn't going to tell her – was how she remained dignified in the face of the news.

She hadn't hidden how on purpose, but Maleficent kept the charade going to give Aurora the appropriate time and space to go through the normal process of grieving. At least, as much as anyone could grieve for a father such as Stefan Rose.

On the subject of her maintained calm, her hands itched to stop their white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel of the car. She knew precisely which zipper pocket of her purse hid an emergency bottle of pills, and had put them there for easy access. Clenching her jaw, Maleficent reasoned with herself – why she couldn't admit to taking a nerve relaxer after Aurora's panic attack, and why she shouldn't take another.

To Maleficent, Aurora should not see pills as an easy way to escape – _especially now_.

Too often, the young woman saw them as a miracle cure, and Maleficent knew that to not be true. Miracles were a farce – as was justice. Perhaps even God was dead, or too disgusted with this world to care any longer; miracles and cures be damned, just as the human race was.

The truth was, Maleficent despised every simultaneously glorious and wretched medication that had been her breakfast upstairs and out of sight. They were a necessary evil in her life; an inevitable consequence of her condition. That didn't mean she had to like it.

The only real cure for what ailed Maleficent sat but a foot away, and she wasn't about to let her own demons hurt the person she loved any longer. She had only needed to calm down before approaching her again, too afraid to lose the tenuous control that almost snapped in the kitchen before Aurora had fainted.

"Better the devil you know, amare... than the devil you don't," she muttered under her breath.

"W-What?" Aurora turned back around, perplexed.

"Nothing. Just talking to myself," Maleficent chuckled sardonically, and flashed a toothy smile. It felt awful – both the fib, and the way her face lit up with artificially infused happiness. "We're here, anyhow."

Aurora rolled her eyes at the untruth, but let it slide. Once the car was parked, she exited and waited for Maleficent to walk to her side. Reaching out with her free hand, she laced their fingers together before taking a deep breath.

With a brisk nod at the gesture, Maleficent led them through the parking lot and up the sidewalk of the Middlesbrough Central Police Station.

It was slow going, weaving their way through chattering barristers and constables that congested the path. Just as they were about to reach the front doors, Maleficent tugged at Aurora's hand and took a sharp, whistling breath though clenched teeth. Her internal alarms had gone off the moment she spotted two people exiting the building.

An older couple in their early fifties looked from Maleficent to Aurora and back again like they had seen a ghost. The woman was short and thick, but classically beautiful with an elegant air. Beside her, the gentleman's arrogant, puffed up stance practically exuded old money – his curled mustache and tweed cap notwithstanding.

She knew these people.

"Irene! Harold! What are you doing here?" Aurora sputtered, her face becoming a picture of spite and loathing.

"You remember them, Aurora?" she asked, and squeezed their hands together again.

"Of course she remembers us, Lilith," Irene tittered, ignoring the wringing of her husband's hands and his gruff, ill-placed cough. "Has it been so long since I saw you at your mother's tea time that _you_ forgot _me_?"

Aurora's brows furrowed in confusion at the familiar way Irene spoke to Maleficent. "I-uh... What?"

Maleficent's shoulders stiffened as she smoothly lifted a cigarette to her lips, and lit it with a flourish. Exhaling the smoke directly into Irene's face, she then turned to Aurora in explanation. "Irene was a friend of my mother's, amare."

It was an obvious answer, but one she could appear to own. Memories of scraped knees hidden beneath her fluffy pinafores and girlish giggles began to break the surface of the icy facade she had thrown up, but Maleficent pushed them away.

Irene's face scrunched up in disgust before she waved her hand to move the cloud of noxious fumes from her direction. "Yes, we were debutantes together. Such a shame Mia's daughter never got the experience of learning to be a lady. Tsk! Her future was so promising, and now look. Just look, Harold."

The thinly veiled dig made Aurora pull away to step between her cousin and Maleficent. She glared at both of them before demanding an answer to her first question. "Oh my God, stop! Why are you even here?"

Fed up with being caught in the crossfire of what he considered to be a henpecking, Harold finally spoke up. "The DCFS had us bring Tara here, Aurora. She is to stay with them until your father's affairs are sorted."

There were so many things Maleficent wanted to say to that. She had suspected that Irene and Harold would be the ones that Stefan stashed Tara with in Scotland, but also had no proof. Now, they were here in Middlesbrough. That meant that the Defense probably had intended to use the little girl as a character witness for her father.

The queasy feeling of her world growing smaller without warning was overwhelming, as was the the feeling that she was in way over her head. Every unsaid revelation made her feel more and more ill. Irene had been a friend to her mother, and yet she had the nerve to dress Maleficent down like she was a piece of garbage, a cast off. Tara had been in this terrible woman's care?

Aurora pulled on her hand, and looked unable to say anything except a torrent of very disrespectful insults. "I want to go inside now, Maleficent," she pleaded, not sparing her father's cousins another look.

Maleficent agreed. Farewells would have been too polite, and they didn't deserve the niceties. She crushed the remnants of her cigarette beneath a boot before walking as smoothly as possible next to Aurora. Holding her held high as they made their way inside, she carried her cane rather than using it. Small pants of exertion at her stubbornness puffed from between her ruby lips.

The insular world of the rich and their abominable nature had always been too foul for her taste, and now it was closing in whether she wanted it to or not. Her mother had always said that she could never truly comprehend it until she was older.

Her mother had been right.

"Good day, Lilith! Do take care, Aurora," Irene called out from behind them.

* * *

The next few hours were spent hashing out that which required immediate attention; ranging from what to do with Stefan's remains to Aurora's inheritance, and whether Maleficent would like continued police presence outside her home for the next few weeks.

Barristers from the firm and the Crown both agreed that Stefan's last will and testament ought to be honored with regards to his funeral: a private cremation with no memorial. Both wanted him quickly forgotten from the public eye; the firm for their reputation, and the Crown for their inability to keep him alive to see sentencing.

It was just as well, Maleficent supposed. As the day wore on, she was becoming more worried about Aurora's state of mind. The only thing that seemed to keep her amare focused on the tasks at hand was to run her fingertips soothingly over the jumpy legs beneath the conference room table.

A public memorial would be torturous for the young woman to attend, not that Maleficent would have forced the issue. She doubted anyone would _want_ to attend Stefan's funeral.

True to his vile nature, mere weeks before he was implicated as a suspect and suspiciously close to the day Phillip broke into the cottage, Stefan had altered his will to erase Aurora from it.

Surprisingly, he had also stopped Tara from inheriting anything of worth. All shares were to be reabsorbed into the trading firm, probably distributed to those who had given the most support for his uncouth deeds over the years.

"I didn't want it anyway," Aurora cried out, just before Maleficent could issue a warning that she had plenty of money, time, and lawyers to challenge such a ridiculous affront.

She stood up abruptly and scrubbed at her tired face. "Can I see Tara now? Oh please, I just want to see my baby sister and go home."

The defeat in her voice was so different than the anger that had resided there during the drive here, but Maleficent could empathize. It had been a terrible day from the start, and Aurora was seeking the one bright light in all of the darkness.

Pleasantries aside, they were led out of the conference room and down a long hallway.

Maleficent recognized the plain and stodgy attire of an older social worker a mile away, and tried to look at pleasant as possible. She knew from experience that there was nothing worse than getting on the bad side of a child advocate. All of her minders had positively hated her.

This one didn't appear to be any different, unfortunately. Once the gray haired woman looked up at Maleficent's approach, she scowled mightily and laid a protective hand onto the shoulder of the petite slip of a girl behind her.

Sitting on a bench past the advocate, a miniature replica of Aurora daydreamed. Tara swung her knobby kneed legs to and fro, and hummed a happy, lilting tune. The social worker's touch caught her attention, and she looked up with a gasp.

Aurora rushed forward to swing the eight year old up into her arms, bawling all the while. "Oh, God! Oh, thank God!" she yelped, and spun around with more joy in her step than Maleficent had seen in... well, ever.

Tara made no such joyful noise, but kept her eyes trained on Maleficent's slowly advancing form. It was difficult to do so while being circled about in Aurora's arms, but the blonde curly haired moppet managed.

The formidable focus set into such a young face sent a shiver down Maleficent's spine. The closer she got, she was surprised to see not blue eyes staring back in awe, but a vivid green.

"Who is she?" Tara wondered aloud, tugging at her sister's hair before pointing.

"Oh!" Aurora chuckled, and set Tara down to take her hand. She crouched down to come face to face with her, and made the biggest, silliest smile possible through her tears. "Miss Tara Rose-" she began the introduction.

"Aurora, wait," Maleficent interrupted, holding up a hand. "She might be frightened. We don't know what your family has told her..."

She may not have stepped foot inside a classroom in months, but Maleficent was a well trained educator. She could sense the fear and anxiety of babies and younger children upon meeting her for the first time; their wide eyed stares, fidgeting, and sometimes outright tantrums. Blaring like little homing beacons, they knew that Maleficent wore a disguise to cover her wounds, and that they probably weren't safe. It wasn't so much that they weren't safe _with_ her, but that a woman who wasn't all she appeared was probably not safe to be _around_. They were so very innocent and unblemished from the world, and saw straight through to her heart.

It was the real reason she preferred not to be in their company or head a classroom full of them, though she often told those who questioned her preference for teaching teenagers that she didn't like children.

Children hated pain. It was rare that they wouldn't shy away from an adult whose heart was laden with it.

Maleficent wished that she'd worn something less severe, or at least brought candy. None of her usual tactics were going to save this moment though, and she cringed in anticipation. Tara was already showing the signs of viewing her as a danger. What would the child do once she realized who Maleficent was?

"Oh, don't be silly!" Aurora insisted. Her blue eyes glittered in warning.

Come hell or high water, she wanted her sister, and she wanted her now. Aurora was having none of what she probably perceived to be Maleficent's recalcitrance to taking Tara in.

"Fine," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead where a tension headache was already making itself known. "Fine, then. Go ahead, if you must."

Humphing smugly, Aurora turned back to Tara and wrapped an arm around her. "As I was saying Tara - meet my um, friend. This is Miss Maleficent Moore."

Maleficent didn't know what was worse; Tara's terror-filled screeching, or the heartbroken look on Aurora's face as the social worker snatched the squalling girl from her arms.


	25. Imperium (Taking Control)

**A/N: Welcome back to another one of our secondary characters in this chapter – and no, I don't mean Tara. Though, she is in here, too! :)**

**(more chapter notes at the end)**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

"**Comfort Me," by Feist**

"**Good Enough," by Evanescence**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Imperium (Taking Control)**

* * *

Aurora supposed that staying in bed for three days was a bit theatrical, but there wasn't much else that her mind seemed to want. It reminded her of when Maleficent had done the same – allowing her hair to knot into sweaty tendrils, and spreading her infuriatingly flowery and woodsy natural scent all over their pillows. There was barely a hint of that scent now, overpowered by Aurora's tart sweat and salty tears.

She smelled herself without even having to move, and though that ought to have launched her out of bed and into the shower on a normal day, Aurora did not move. It was a wonder how her love still curled up next to her each night, skin to skin, without a single complaint. Maleficent had even insisted on kissing her goodnight every evening, and good morning with each sunrise – even though Aurora was certain her breath could knock a grown man off his feet.

Rolling over, she buried her face in between their two fluffy pillows and huffed a breath in experiment. It wrinkled her nose, and running a tongue over her teeth did nothing but disgust her further.

It was marvelous, and she gave a cracked up laugh before composing herself again.

The door to their bedroom creaked open, and a fully dressed Maleficent crept through. Balancing a tea tray full of biscuits, scones, and Aurora's coffee was difficult while her chin pressed a cell phone to her ear, but the woman managed somehow.

"Yes, yes," she sputtered into the iPhone, nostrils flaring in irritation for whatever was being said back. "I understand what you are saying, though I most certainly do not agree. This is utterly preposterous!"

Aurora had peeked her eyes over the edge of a pillow when the door opened, and she watched as Maleficent deposited the tray onto a bedside table before walking away – still intent on arguing with whomever was on the phone.

"No, I don't want to hold!"

Just as she reached the doorway, Maleficent paused to look back at the bed while the other party rattled off into her ear. She raised a hand towards Aurora, pointing from the coffee towards her, and back again with a stern look of reproach.

Apparently, three days of Aurora's tantrum was Maleficent's limit. The prospect of a fourth day was declared out of the question with the simple wag of a finger.

That made Aurora scowl, and she burrowed even further beneath the cream cotton sheets. It was hot under there, her breath heavy and putrid – but she stubbornly closed her eyes against the onslaught of sunlight that suddenly invaded the bedroom. Wait, what?

_Thump, thump, pause, thump. _

The sheets flew off of her with a firm tug and a flourish. Behind the wadded up linens was an angry Maleficent, the phone conversation apparently ended. Before Aurora knew what was happening, the blankets were tossed onto the chair beneath the window, and hands slid beneath her shoulders and knees to tug her into Maleficent's arms.

"Hey! What-" she squalled, and batted at her girlfriend's arms. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but Aurora wanted Maleficent to know that she was not pleased with this turn of events. "What're you doing?"

Maleficent's nails dug into her flesh, and her green eyes winced visibly at the oncoming blows. It wasn't much of a struggle, but Aurora knew the last thing they both wanted was for her to be dropped from such a height onto the floor. No, this was a battle of wills – and she was steadily on the losing end. Three days in bed had left her weak and hungry, and for a moment Aurora considered that Maleficent knew precisely what it felt like to be dizzy, disoriented, and altogether cantankerous.

Ducking another ineffectual swing of Aurora's open palm, Maleficent stumbled and flashed her teeth in a grimace. "I am doing what needs to be done," she growled.

The flare of hurt long withheld in the wide eyes that stared Aurora down in that moment had her shrinking into the strong hold of her lover's arms, and she stilled.

Licking her dry lips, Aurora wondered aloud what that might be precisely. "... and what needs to be done with me?" she sneered, before gawping at her own turn of phrase and cutting tone.

Amazed at the response for a beat, Maleficent quickly recovered and narrowed her eyes. A frown settled across her lips in the way it always did when posed with a challenge. She marched them both through the adjoining bathroom door, not bothering to care how the heavy wood hit on her shoulder as she shoved it open. It should have made her gasp in pain, but Maleficent was stoically silent.

Aurora had some idea now what Maleficent's intent was, and prepared herself to be deposited down in front of the sink with strict orders for this, or that. What happened next, she didn't expect whatsoever.

She was plunked down into the tub, Maleficent's hand pressed firmly onto her shoulder to keep her down. The woman's other hand flew to the tap, and rapidly turned on the cold water and shower.

"Augh!" Aurora squealed, and slid away from the stream of freezing water. "What the fuck! I didn't toss your arse in the shower!"

Rolling her eyes grandly, Maleficent then turned the tap to warmer temperatures. "No, you fed me until I was set to bursting," she griped with a small smirk.

Turning towards Aurora once again, she pushed lightly on her shoulder once more. "You've made your point quite clear, amare. You control your life – that is, you want to have it. Stinking up our bed isn't going to bring Tara home any sooner, though," she murmured, and looked somewhat abashed.

The gentle understanding in Maleficent's face, paired with the feeling of having absolutely no control – after all, she was now drenched in water - made Aurora seethe all the more. She had wanted just one thing to herself, just _one. _Who cared if she stank? It seemed that Maleficent hadn't. Well, not until this morning.

"If you're going to act like a child, I shall treat you like one," Maleficent warned softly, brandishing a loofah and a bottle of shower gel.

She'd leaned inside the tub to grab them, and her silk shirt and hair was now just as sopping wet as Aurora. It became abundantly clear to Aurora that Maleficent meant business, and wasn't going to give up.

Mustering the fiercest pout she could, Aurora snatched the items from her girlfriend and held them to her chest. Hot tears joined the water dripping from her hair, and her lower lip quivered traitorously.

"Fine. You win," she mumbled, and tried to look anywhere but at the smile that quickly appeared on Maleficent's face.

"No, darling...you win." Maleficent cooed, and ran a hand through Aurora's stringy locks. "You'll see."

Standing back up, she patted her damp head of mahogany hair and sighed. Turning towards the mirror, she twisted it into a chignon and thrust two bobby pins in to secure the hairstyle in effortless fashion. Her shirt was the next thing to be dealt with, and Maleficent made short work of wriggling out of it and hanging it over the drying rack.

Aurora tried not to stare at the leonine curvature of Maleficent's back – the way taut muscles moved beneath her silky skin from spine to ribcage – but considered it pointless to look away after a smirk met her gaze in the bathroom mirror. In response, she doused the loofah in soap and started scrubbing.

Seemingly satisfied with that, Maleficent nodded once and cleared her throat before walking out of the bathroom. Aurora heard the standard squeak and groan of the closet door as she surmised the other looked for a dry shirt to wear. Just as she began to lather her hair with shampoo, the mattress on the bed thumped a few times. By the time she stood to shave and finally rinse off, the only sounds upstairs were that of the pinging droplets of water from the shower hitting the white tile of the wall and the cast iron tub.

Even in her stubbornness, she had to admit that being clean did make her feel better, if only the tiniest bit. It did nothing to fill the emptiness that resided in her heart next to her love for Maleficent, and Aurora rubbed at her chest as she thought of Tara. While logic spoke the obvious truth that Maleficent wanted her to act like an adult and tuck down to get through this together, a part of her wanted to push that away with a snarl.

Aurora was afraid that no matter how refined, diligent, responsible she appeared that there was no way her sister would be given over by the Crown to come under Maleficent's care. That particular truth stung so much that she only pondered it for a second at most. She refused to choose between Maleficent and Tara. How in the world could she care for an eight-year-old with no place to live, and no money?

She had no choice. As with all things in her life, Aurora was without choices.

Not realizing how angry that made her until her teeth grated under the force of her jaw clenching, she mused her lips and sighed. Standing in the shower all day wasn't going to solve anything, just as laying in bed wouldn't have.

If it was a show of effort that Maleficent wanted, then Aurora would at least grant her that. During the summer, Maleficent had showered at the very least and begrudgingly ate what was put in front of her. Blow drying her hair and applying minimal makeup didn't take too much time, and picking out a pretty but comfortable cotton dress took even less. Still, she was surprised to see that her phone blinked 11:41 AM back at her when she picked it up to clean out any junk email.

"Aurora?" Maleficent's voice called out from downstairs, and startled her. "Aurora, you have a guest!"

Her love sounded... pleased. That sparked her curiosity, and she glared at the doorway.

Aurora wondered who in the world wanted to see her; furthermore, who in the world Maleficent would allow into the house that she even remotely _wanted_ to see. Swallowing a groan, she slunk down the stairs with about as much grace as a sloth.

_'See? I'm doing as I'm told,'_ she sang in her mind, and dragged her foot on the landing with a thunk for good measure.

Maleficent sat at the kitchen table in one of the mismatched chairs she'd dragged up from the basement. Her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she stared down at a pile of paperwork a mile high, and she scribbled on the first page while tsking. Seated next to her, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Aurora imagined the former student would be, was Serena Windsor.

Without looking up from her strangely business-like papers, Maleficent motioned towards Serena with a pen-laden hand. "Miss Windsor to see you, dear."

The mere mention of her name had Serena's hazel eyes darting between Maleficent and Aurora in nervousness, and she bit at her dark brown lip. "Y-yes. Hi, Aurora!" she chirped.

"Maleficent..." Aurora moaned, and rubbed at her forehead. Whatever the woman had cooked up in bringing Serena Windsor here to chatter on like old friends, she wanted no part of it. "Why did you-"

"-_I didn't,_" Maleficent interrupted sharply, and frowned at a long list of what appeared to be transactions before checking off every third one. "As you know, Miss Windsor's father is a well known barrister for the borough, and knows the case well. So, when Serena here said she was worried about you, he figured it was now appropriate to send her on over."

"That's right, Mal... Miss... ma'am!" Serena stuttered and nodded vigorously. Standing up, she looked relieved at being able to get away from Maleficent in the guise of greeting the new arrival to the kitchen properly. After scrambling towards Aurora, she reached out to take her hand.

Looking at her former classmate with sad eyes, Serena squeezed their hands together gently. "I'm so sorry about, well... never mind all that. I thought we might go get some lunch? Maybe do some shopping at this fabulous little boutique that's just opened up-"

Ignoring her would-be friend for a moment, Aurora stared hard at Maleficent until the woman met her eye. It didn't take but a few breaths, for they were so in tuned, but the anticipatory raised eyebrow and slight curl to Maleficent's lips told Aurora that she was ready for whatever protest was coming.

"I don't have any money for shopping," she declared somewhat triumphantly, and shrugged.

"Nonsense!" Maleficent retorted, waving one hand again, and digging into her purse with the other. It had been waiting beside her chair for just this moment, it seemed. Mumbling to herself as if she hadn't planned it all in advance, she revealed a credit card with an exclamation of delight. "Ah-ha! Here it is. Just what I was looking for."

Serena's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates at the sight of the card, especially as Maleficent moved it lazily through the air between the two young women like a red flag weaving between bulls.

Aurora knew why Serena stood stock still at the sight of the platinum credit card and it's mythological million dollar limit, and rolled her eyes at the playful glint that crossed Maleficent's toothy smile. "Really?" she sassed.

Her love hummed, and narrowed her eyes at Serena. "Miss Windsor, if I'd wanted to examine your teeth like one does a horse at market, I might have asked. Suffice it to say, I have not."

Snapping her mouth shut, Serena had the sense to look embarrassed. "S-Sorry, Miss Moore. Of course."

With a dramatic sigh, Maleficent thrust the card at Aurora. "Do I have to go upstairs to get cash, then? I'd much rather earn the airfare miles with this."

Much as she had with the soap and loofah in the bathroom, Aurora snatched the proffered card from Maleficent's long fingers.

"I'm going to buy everything I see," she informed the smug and silently snickering woman seated at the table. "In the most horrible colors I can find. Maybe I'll purchase you a _pink... flowery... hat!"_

"You do that, amare," Maleficent chuckled, no longer able to keep her amusement at Aurora's temper inside. "I do need a new hat."

Turning back to her work with one last chortle, she shook her head.

* * *

After eating a double order of mozzarella sticks and a chocolate milkshake for lunch (much to the salad-eating Serena's horror,) Aurora ambled her way down the little side roads of Middlesbrough's boutique district. She probably shouldn't have eaten so much greasy food in one sitting, and her stomach seemed to agree with that assessment with it's rolling and bubbling.

Serena chattered on like no time had passed since the last day they'd seen one another – their advanced placement testing – and skillfully avoided any mention of the court case, Aurora's father, and unsurprisingly, Maleficent.

"Oh! Look at this shoppe!" she exclaimed, and pointed to a newer installment of bespoke dresses, decorated in tiny gems and bits of frothy lace here and there. "Victorian inspired things are so in this season, Aurora. We should go in."

Stopping by the window, Aurora spied a frothy confection of a fascinator – a pillbox type hat in ballet pink, replete with pink Russian tulle veil tucked beneath maribou. By far the most atrocious thing she'd ever seen, the little hat was somehow beautiful in it's own unique way. It just needed the right wearer, and she had just the idea.

"Oh yes!" she trilled back to Serena, and linked arms with her to head inside.

The day continued on in this fashion – the vogue Serena catching something adorable or avant garde in each window they passed, and Aurora didn't have the heart to tell her no. Just as she had told Maleficent, she purchased everything she wanted – and some things she didn't want. If her girlfriend didn't like them, then the clothing and accessories could go to someone who did.

Five hours and countless stores later, both shlepped their way back to Serena's Jetta. Their feet hurt, but smiles of solidarity were exchanged over the fact that they had marathoned through the entire district without stopping.

Once inside the car, Aurora slipped off her flats and wiggled her toes with a moan of relief.

Serena giggled and tilted her head, tightly twisted curls bobbing with the force of her laughter. "Feels good, huh?"

Though Aurora knew that the girl meant her aching feet, she couldn't rule out the undercurrent of concern that seemed to lace the words. "My feet, sure. Spending that much of Maleficent's money? Not really."

"Why ever not?" Serena teased, and batted Aurora's shoulder. Pursing her lips together, she got a little more serious, and rested her head back against the seat. "It's not as if helping Miss Moore didn't like, ruin your life."

Sitting up, Aurora frowned at the insinuation behind Serena's words. "She didn't ruin my life. That's all wrong – I was the one who ruined her life."

At Serena's disbelieving stare, she huffed and crossed her arms. "How much do you even know? What the telly says, or what your father says? She almost died for me-"

"-Hey, hey... Aurora. It's cool," Serena stage whispered, and made a calming motion with her hands. "I didn't mean to say it like your life is over, or that it's her fault completely. But she did use you, yanno?"

The fourth ping in an hour alerted them to Aurora's phone, and she stuffed it even deeper into her purse. Right now, the last thing she needed was Maleficent seeming like an overbearing warden.

Serena looked at the bag with a sheepish grin when the phone alerted, but her expression became worried when Aurora had ignored it, and how. "That was her, wasn't it? Gawd, Aurora – you know you don't have to stay, right? She scares the crap out of me, _and _Daddy. Do you know what she did to that bloke's face... _with her bare fookin' hands_?"

Oddly touched by the turnaround of Serena's attitude towards her since the school year ended (and by association any involvement with the meaner girls in their class,) Aurora reached out and placed her hand atop her new friend's. "Stop worrying, please? I just need some space, and she knows that. She understands me Serena, just like I understand her. We love each other."

She didn't dissuade Serena's natural fear of Maleficent, and the strange flavor of jealousy danced across her tongue with unsaid words about how her love really just appeared intimidating, and how she'd beaten Lenny's face in with a pistol – not her bare hands. It might be better at this juncture to leave those kind of explanations well alone.

"Space..." Serena replied dryly, as if asking for such a thing from her former teacher was like asking to ice skate in Hell. "Are we talking about the same Miss Moore?"

Grinning brightly, Aurora buckled her seat belt. "Yeah, space. If she's going to shove me out the door for a play date with you," she stuck her tongue out at the failed tactical maneuver by Mr. Windsor, Esq. and Maleficent, "then we're going to do it properly. Where else do you want to go?"

Serena started the car, and looked thoughtfully out the window for a minute. As if struck with sudden genius, she turned around and clapped her hands together. "Oh, I know!"

"What?" Aurora flinched at the loud gesture.

"Let's go clubbing tonight!" Serena squealed, and threw her arms around the shocked blonde beside her.

"We can go back to my house, and you can try on all my good dresses. We'll have to do something about your hair, and Daddy will want to see you're alright..." she rambled on, ticking the to-do list off on her fingertips once she pulled away. "Oh, muh' gawd! Do you think they'll let us open a tab with that card?"

Her grin fading into a forced smile, Aurora shoved her cell phone even deeper into her purse.

* * *

Elsa poured over paperwork with Maleficent, though it all looked like Greek to her. Some of it was, actually – and Afrikaans, Dutch, and so forth.

"What am I looking for exactly?" she groaned, and tapped her highlighter on the stack in front of her. "I'll have you know I'm missing a warm couch with my fiancee atop it, and a re-run of _Practical Magic_ on the telly."

"I like how the warm couch comes first," Maleficent muttered under her breath, and plunked another book of papers on top of another she'd finished. "Just... highlight anything with my name."

"Just your name - your two different names - among five different languages. It'll be easy, you said," Elsa griped, and highlighted another line of _something_ that belonged to Lilith M. LaFey. "But, I still don't understand why?"

She pushed a booklet full of foreign alphabetized notations at Maleficent. How her friend could make heads or tails of any of this was beyond her, but Elsa had agreed to keep Maleficent company during the evening while Aurora was out gallivanting with Serena Windsor, of all people. She recalled the young woman being a snobbish git, but perhaps that was more for show while in the midst of a pack of wild schoolgirls.

Maleficent would never admit it, but Elsa suspected that she was frightened of being alone – even though a police cruiser still sat outside from dusk until dawn, and made regular rounds to check on the cottage and it's inhabitants. Therefore, here she sat; up to her ears in dusty books that made absolutely no sense.

"Do you have any idea how weird it is to see your name spelled with a weird U on a stick?" she joked, and pointed at the μ on a line. This time, it was Maleficent's current name: μαλεφιξεντ μοορε.

"Mu," Maleficent scoffed, and squinted her eyes at the book. "Give me that, if you're going to complain so much."

Taken aback by the name for the Greek M, Elsa stared at it as the book slid towards Maleficent's stacks. "Moo? Like..." she put two fingers on the top of her head to symbolize horns, and made a silly face. "Mooooo?"

Her best friend of nine years grit her teeth audibly and threw her pen down. "Honestly, how old are you?"

Thrusting her two middle fingers up against each cheek, Elsa grinned at the ornery woman across the table. "This many, just like you."

Giving her best blasé expression typically reserved for people with ignorant opinions or tiny minds, Maleficent then leaned over to poke at her iPhone. It hadn't gone off all evening – not a single text, or a phone call in response to the many she'd sent and made. It was just after midnight, and the later it became, it looked as if it was becoming more difficult to keep her more irrational fears at bay.

Elsa placed her hand atop Maleficent's shaking grasp on the phone, and petted the thin, soft skin just inside her friend's wrist. It used to be one of the things that would calm her down during night terrors, a very long time ago.

Pulling her wrist away like she'd been burnt, Maleficent gave Elsa a tight lipped smile and put the phone down. "To answer your question, we're highlighting all of my shares in the mines owned by Christopoulos Trading. I want an easy way to go through and add up the net worth without wasting my time on an untrustworthy accountant from the London office," she finally explained, in a hushed voice.

Smoothly picking up her cup of coffee to take a sip as if the tense moment hadn't occurred between them, Elsa then motioned towards the books. If Maleficent was more comfortable changing the subject, then she would play along – anything to keep the distressed woman from hobbling her way through the entire borough looking for Aurora. _Again._

"That seems smart. Are you going to sell some like you did when we came back from America?"

Elsa vaguely remembered a sudden influx of wealth just before they departed Washington D.C., and questioning Maleficent about it. At the time, the story was that she sold some of the shares from her grandparents' company, and left it at that. Looking at the thick tomes on the kitchen table made Elsa realize that there was far more than she ever realized.

"I'm liquidating, if they'll let me," Maleficent's feather-light whisper could have been a scream, for the tortured way she said it. "They know I'm unemployed now, and they want my time. I don't want to give them a minute of it, so I'm selling."

That explanation left so many more questions in Elsa's mind, but all she could do was grimace. Voicing them when Maleficent was acting so guardedly was a bad idea.

It wasn't fair of the firm to ask such a thing of Maleficent, and while she knew they couldn't force her friend to work for them, she was sure that a Board of Directors of crotchety old men probably wanted to distance themselves as much as possible from the entire Stefan Rose mess. So then, why would they ask for her time?

What did Maleficent have that they still wanted her so badly?

"That doesn't make any sense, but I'll take your word for it," Elsa reassured, and tapped a book. "Gud, how much are you trying to fleece out of them?"

Just as Maleficent drew a breath to reply, there was a sharp knock at the front door.

Both women popped up from their seats, but Elsa was faster. Maleficent was using her cane today, though she proudly refused to tell why other than that she'd overexerted herself.

"I'll get it, Mallie!" Elsa argued, and tried to shoo the rapidly advancing woman back to the kitchen.

As soon as she turned the doorknob, Serena Windsor burst through the door. Aurora laid across the girl's back in a sort of fireman's drag.

It was quite a display – the book-smart and cliquish Serena looking warily at Maleficent for fear of bringing the clearly intoxicated Aurora home.

"Miss Arandelle!" she yelped, clearly shocked to see Elsa here, but focused on the friend she'd dragged home. "She's heavy!"

At the mention of her presence, Aurora seemed to perk up and started to sing some nonsensical, garbled tune. She rolled right off Serena's back, and into Maleficent's waiting arms.

"Hullooo," Aurora smiled dreamily at Maleficent, and wrapped her arms around the taller woman's neck. "I had-" _hiccup. _"-soooooo much fun."

Serena had ducked back outside to drag in an ungodly amount of shopping bags into the foyer, and wrung her hands at the sight of Maleficent swaying Aurora in gentle circles.

Elsa spied the infinitesimally small smile that infused Maleficent's lips as she wrapped Aurora into a tight embrace. Soft murmurs came from those lips into the young woman's blonde waves, and the sight was a relief to her. She also realized that Serena's comical bewilderment was caused by what the former student perceived to be a precarious situation, like sneaking in past curfew or some such nonsense.

"Miss Windsor," she whispered, and took the girl's willowy arm with her own. "She's fine now. Miss Moore will take good care of her, I promise. Please tell me you left your car downtown and cabbed it here?"

Still staring unabashedly at the way Maleficent almost cradled her friend and rubbed their noses together as if they were the only women in the room, Serena blushed and stuttered. "Of c-course, Miss Arandelle."

Shrugging her coat on before sharing a knowing smile with her own friend, Elsa motioned for the door. The book-keeping party had ended early, and she was happy for the escape. "Good. Allow me to see you home, then. Goodnight, Mallie... Aurora," she nodded politely.

The Windsor girl made her goodbyes and quickly stumbled out the door and towards her pickup, and Elsa couldn't help but snort at her skittishness.

As the door closed behind them, Aurora's cheery peep echoed the foyer, followed by tinkling laughter. "G'nite!"

* * *

"You're not really going to take me to church, are you?" Aurora pleaded, and pressed her face against the cold glass of the passenger's side window. It was Sunday, and though she really doubted the seriousness of the destination, anything was possible.

The window felt so nice against her burning cheek, which still hadn't cooled down since last night when she'd had the brilliant idea to mix beer and liquor. The sedan was travelling at a fast clip with Maleficent at the wheel, and the sharp curves of the empty country highway made Aurora's stomach turn.

A low chuckle came from next to her, where Maleficent sat in all of her regally adorned glory. The pillbox hat was tilted and pinned just so against the edge of her coiffed chignon, and she'd paired the frilly thing with a taupey-pink linen dress that fit her curves like the fine ecru crochet driving gloves that graced her delicate hands.

The hat had been a joke, so when her love acted like it was the best gift she'd ever received and spent the better part of the morning pairing it with the outfit, Aurora's confusion had quickly turned to suspicion, and then adoration. While she found Maleficent's darker edginess captivating and sexy, this version made her feel giddy, and _warm_.

"You look beautiful; like a real Londoner," Aurora mediated her thoughts aloud, but almost swore when her cheeks rushed with a hot blush. It made her dizzy, and she wished that she'd taken Maleficent's advice on eating the dry toast before they left.

"As opposed to a fake Londoner?" Maleficent laughed, and shook her head.

A breathtakingly huge smile followed, and Aurora found herself awestruck at the sight. She wanted to memorize this moment for all time – even with the stupid hat.

"Don't change the subject, please?" she implored, and then sat upright to better see Maleficent's face for tells and visual cues. "Where are we really going?"

Tsking mildly, Maleficent turned her face away as she made a right hand turn. "Let it be known that you changed the subject first, with your flirting. As I said before, it's a surprise. If you keep asking me, I _will _take us to church."

Grumbling internally, Aurora crossed her arms to wait it out. She used to like surprises, but with so many stressful things happening within such a short span of time in her life, the prospect of the unknown began to frighten her more than excite her.

Her eyes were still tired from dancing half the night and drinking too much, and they slid closed. She kept telling herself that it was just for a moment, and only to rest them from the bright glare of the morning sun.

Before Aurora knew it, the car slowed and parked. The sleek touch of a gloved finger brushed across her cheek, and her eyes fluttered open. It was hard to focus right away, and she realized she must have dozed off. "Huh?"

Maleficent opened her door and slid gracefully out of the car. Peering over her shoulder once she stood, she gave Aurora a fond, affectionate look before slipping on her sunglasses. "We're here, amare. Follow me, and do as I say."

Pausing only until Aurora exited the car, Maleficent strolled over the green grass of a playground area beside the Middlesbrough Home for Young Girls.

Aurora remembered what happened the last time she didn't heed Maleficent's request to allow her the lead. Even so, her eyes tore across the yard to a group of girls playing on or near the swings and see-saws, seeking desperately for a glimpse of the one child she knew to be here.

With a purposeful nod to the matron on duty, Maleficent made her way towards the gaggle of children. Most of them scattered at her approach, but two taller girls were tugging at a smaller one, and it was evident even with the younger girl's back turned that she was crying. _Tara. _

"Now, what's this?" Maleficent questioned the group, and put a hand to her hip. "I sent cookies from the bakery down the street yesterday, and I find you're still unhappy and taking it out on this... poor thing?"

_'What are you playing at, Maleficent Moore?' _Aurora pondered, and stood beside the matron. Itching to be involved in whatever the plan was, she still refused to make the same mistake twice, and hung back in order to let it play out.

Tara turned to face Maleficent, and sniffled. Before she knew exactly who she was addressing, she tugged on the fine dress and pointed at the troublemakers. "They always make fun of me, ma'am. They ate all the cookies, too!"

Bringing a hand to her chest in a melodramatic way, Maleficent looked grieved. "Is that so?"

The eldest of the two other girls piped up in defense. "Nah, miss! She just cries so bloody much for her mother. We're teachin' her to be tough, eh Tara? Matron knows we do."

Sticking her tongue out at them, Tara clung even closer to Maleficent's thighs.

It was amazing to Aurora; the girl that had been so afraid of a name now sought safety in the same woman's presence. It suddenly made sense why Maleficent had been so very pleased with the hat. Her entire outfit was meant to look pretty, feminine, and motherly – a well schemed disguise.

Tara ate it up, and tugged once again on Maleficent's skirt. "Why are you here? Have you come to play with us?"

Leaning down to wrap an arm around Tara's shoulders, Maleficent slid her sunglasses off with her other hand before pointing back at Aurora. "I've brought your sister, of course."

Realization slowly dawned on Tara's face as she finally spotted her, and Aurora could see the progression of emotions on her sister's face. Fear was there, but it melted into embarrassment, and finally acceptance as she stared back and forth between Maleficent and the two playground bullies. If she threw a fit now, the older girls would never let her hear the end of it.

Visibly gulping down apprehension, Tara closed her eyes. She held her arms up towards Maleficent in a silent request – though it looked more like she was begging to be slaughtered now, rather than later.

Aurora flinched – this was a test, she knew. Father had instructed their nannies not to indulge the then seven-year-old in picking her up for hugs, or hugging her at all really, even after their mother had died.

Without hesitation, Maleficent reached down and picked up Tara, unusual as it was for a girl her age to be carried.

Once safely settled into Maleficent's arms, Tara threw hers wide again. She waved towards Aurora as she was carried, and howled in delight.

"Aurora! 'Rora, look... She's a pink monster today!"

* * *

**Chapter Notes:**

**For those curious about how Maleficent knows how to read her own name in Greek, remember – her grandfather in this fic was a Greek gem trader. That nugget of information came long ago in the early chapters, so it's easy to forget if you don't know where the surname Christopoulos originates from. Furthermore, when in college focusing on any of the classical languages such as Latin, it's often recommended that you at least have a basic level of understanding with the others – such as Greek. It wouldn't a stretch for Maleficent to have taken a course or two during her studies to teach Latin.**

**As for why the firm's books would be in different languages, well... the books are kept by people who work in the location of the mines and the satellite offices. The largest gem trading centers in the world are South Africa (Afrikaans,) and Antwerp (Dutch.)**

**EDITED TO ADD: a very nice anonymous note from a reader told me that there might be some confusion regarding precisely where Antwerp is, because of the usage of the word Dutch to describe both a language, and a place (the Netherlands.) Antwerp is located in Belgium, though the major language in use is Dutch (followed by German, and French.)**


	26. Torquem Laqueo (The Necklace is a Noose)

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! This is one of those "WTF, Cocovicious" chapters, and required way more editing than anticipated to ensure my inner perfectionist would stop her kabitzing. I highly recommend taking it piece by piece as it contains a lot of feels, deep thinking, and some mild depictions of violence. Trigger warnings include discussions of mortality, dissociation, knives, and blood. Reviews are always appreciated, as well as discussion if you have questions. If you just want to shout at me, that's fine too.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

"**State of Seduction," by Digital Daggers**

"**Roses," by the Indelicates (thanks ScientificHooligan, for all the tissues I used listening to this while I edited!)**

**"Asleep" (originally by The Smiths,) as sung by Emily Browning**

* * *

**Chapter 26: "Torquem Laqueo (The Necklace is a Noose)**"

* * *

The endless whirlwind of activity in the past two weeks had both invigorated Aurora, and challenged many of her preconceived notions about Maleficent. Every other day, they had made the half-hour trip to visit Tara for the better part of an afternoon or evening, and each time found a new treatise made between her girlfriend and her sister.

The simplest interactions between Maleficent and Tara meant so much, and it reminded her of when she'd first come to the cottage and felt that each word spilled from the woman's lips had a thousand meanings. Each measured turn of phrase and calculated move were meant to ease Tara into the idea that Maleficent was not the evil monster she had been depicted as, but the true turning point had taken all three of them by surprise. It was this memory from earlier today that kept her awake, even as the her iPhone on the bedside table glowed 2:16AM – Tuesday, September 30th.

_The Girls' Home was stuffy and warm, the air dry as the emotions shown by the caretakers and staff. On the uncomfortable, state issued furniture they sat, Aurora shoulder to shoulder with her sister. Tara was seeking bodily contact more and more as the days passed, and thankfully finding comfort in it. _

_Their visit was almost denied by Tara's minders as an "interruption to the day's schedule." Maleficent had seethed quietly and motioned towards the haughty, white-haired headmistress until the woman stood aside and led her into an office. Aurora had no idea what words were exchanged then, but it was most certainly not quiet any longer. The infuriated rumblings had been loud enough to carry down the long hallway and into the group visitation area. It sounded vicious. _

"_They're snarling like wolves," Tara whispered in awe, and slipped closer against Aurora's side. _

"_Yeah," Aurora whispered back. The brutal history between the two women was far more intense than she'd ever care to explain to her little sister. Platitudes like 'that's just how grown ups are,' bounced around her mind, but fell mum on her tongue. _

After all, she was an adult, and while she had argued with Maleficent until the woman's hackles raised enough to elicit such snarling in the past, she hated to do it. Too much time was wasted in being angry, and Aurora learned quickly that it only led to even more hurt feelings.

Maleficent looked and acted so deflated after such outbursts, whether it was with her or another person. Though she was fiercely beautiful in those moments – opalescent eyes blazing, and lustrous hair swishing with each stiff jerk of her neck to locate the prey in question with that fiery gaze - anger ate away at her melodious voice until it was honed down to the sharp edge of a blade. Anger puffed her up, inflating her ego to the point where she seemed inches taller, and frighteningly powerful.

And what was left when the anger was gone? Maleficent's voice would crack with sadness. Tears would fall from her reddened eyes, and a body robbed of energy from wasting it on the useless emotion folded in upon itself in shame.

Aurora's gaze was drawn to that body, which was currently curled up next to her. Despite her mood, she smiled at Maleficent's open mouthed snoring. If she overlooked the dusky, bruise-like shadows beneath the woman's eyes and the ever-present furrow between her eyebrows, Aurora might have been able to convince herself that Maleficent was simply tired. She knew better.

Between the dusty ledgers brought down from the spare room, calling strange London area numbers, and spoiling Tara with more fresh baked cookies than any child could ever eat, and unexpected gifts, Maleficent was running herself ragged.

_The scent of roses accompanied Maleficent's arrival to the sitting room. Water droplets clung to the fine hairs on her arms, like she'd only just washed her hands and neglected to towel past her wrists. Rubbing her hands together briskly, she sat down in a chair across from the couch with a flourish. _

_She bit at her bottom lip in consternation, as if to withhold a deluge of things she wanted to say, but didn't. _

"_It's so damned dry in here," Maleficent muttered instead, and peered at Tara's hands. She didn't look pleased at the gnawed fingernails, or the dirt that was smudged here and there. _

_Digging around in her purse, she pulled out a bottle of hand lotion and placed it delicately atop the coffee table in front of the couch. That explained the strong scent – she must have only recently applied some after visiting the bathroom."Are your hands dry too, cara?" _

_Cara – the dearest one, the baby. [1] She never called Tara anything but the Latin pet name, and Tara had avoided responding with Maleficent's name in kind. It was always Ma'am, her, or the Lady. That is, until today. _

_Tara wriggled off the couch to snatch the lotion. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply and showed it to Aurora like it was treasure. _

"_It smells like Mother, 'Rora," her little voice trembled with joy. "Don't you remember?"_

_Making quite the scene of measuring out just a tiny bit into her hands, Tara then rubbed them together before placing the bottle back onto the table. She couldn't stop looking at it, as if she longed to take it back and never let it go. "T-Thank you, Maleficent," she stuttered, her voice nearly inaudible._

_For her part, Maleficent tried to look calm about the exchange, but her eyes darted back and forth from Aurora, to Tara, and then to the bottle while her throat worked to conceal a gulp. Her hands wiped against the brushed wool of her skirt, but a cautious smile lit up her face. _

"_You're very welcome, cara Tara," she rhymed the words effortlessly on her lilting tongue. "You may keep it, if you would like."_

_Tara's explosion of happiness startled Maleficent, but Aurora found the reaction to her sister taking the nearly full bottle of product up to her room and out of sight much more telling. She wasn't a fool, and knew the price of the designer boutique brand. _

_It didn't make sense that her girlfriend would gladly give something so very dear away – not without a reason. Personal possessions being touched or taken was not an easy thing for her to bear. _

_Aurora knew that Maleficent had often chased the younger girls at St. Augusta's down when they would sneak things from her desk. She was even visibly irritated when Dr. Foley had puttered around the cottage in search of clues before the trial. But today, she merely sunk into her chair and blew out a sigh._

_Today, Maleficent seemed happy to have let that particular possession go. _

The muffled sounds of snoring were cut off abruptly, and turned into choking. Aurora jolted fully awake, worried at what she was hearing.

No longer relaxed, Maleficent's mouth was caught in a clench jawed grimace. Tendons stuck out on either side of her throat with the tension, and her hands flew up to claw at it.

"Oh!" Aurora yelped, and wrapped her hands around the those that dug at the skin just above Maleficent's collarbone. She was afraid that Maleficent might draw blood if allowed to carry on any longer. "Wake up! It's alright..."

With a painful squeeze of her hands, Maleficent did wake. Panting and gasping, she flung herself back against the headboard.

Squeezing back, Aurora took deep breaths herself. "Breathe, breathe," she coaxed, running her thumbs over the top of the hands she held.

Turning to face Aurora, her love appeared as she always did after a nightmare – stunned, and agitated. Lips quivered before pressing together, holding in a whimper to shake in her throat instead.

Stillness eventually descended between them, and the silence of night. The first noise to break it around ten minutes later was the rustling of sheets as Maleficent slid back beneath them, and then her whisper.

"'Rora?"

"Yeah?" she yawned, and swiped her thumbs once more in reassurance. Maleficent tugged to unclasp their hands before looking down at them, and Aurora watched carefully for the next reaction.

A summary examination was performed as Maleficent turned them over once, and then again before reaching up to rub at her neck. Reaching forward, she laid a clammy palm against Aurora's throat, and then touched her own once more. Apprehension clouded her expression, and she grimaced again. "Did I hurt you?"

Her lips mashing together in a displeased pout for the argument she felt brewing already, Aurora sought a way to avoid it at all costs. "Of course you didn't hurt me. Don't be like that," she soothed, and curled an arm around the dip of her waist.

Maleficent's troubled eyes followed the motion with startling clarity before snapping back to peer at Aurora's face for any signs of dishonesty.

"I'm fine, I swear," Aurora insisted, and wiggled closer to hide from the scrutiny. "You didn't touch me except to hold my hand."

Fully expecting disbelief to pour forth from Maleficent's mouth, she was amazed to hear not a single protest. Also unexpected, though not unwelcome, were the hands that strayed upwards from between them to cup at her cheeks like she was a beloved discovery.

Her love's face filled Aurora's vision as she leaned in to touch their foreheads together, but Maleficent did not stop caressing her cheeks. She also didn't close her eyes out of instinct, but stared earnestly into Aurora's as if trying to find the meaning of life within them.

Haltingly, Maleficent sought to explain why. "I could drown in your eyes. I didn't realize..."

"Very poetic," Aurora joked, trying to inject some levity. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the sentiment though, and she was left even more confused than before.

Unused to being teased for her romantic gesturing, Maleficent looked away. Even in the pale moonlight, her embarrassment was clear; a blush creeping to her sharp cheekbones before she drew her hands away from Aurora.

In an attempt to salvage the moment, Aurora sought to dissuade her from thinking that her actions had not been wanted. "No, no, no," she whispered, and pulled the retreating hands back onto her cheeks. "Don't stop."

Hope, and a tiny bit of smugness lit up Maleficent's face, and she mirrored Aurora's hold by wrapping an arm around her. "As you wish. May I kiss you now?"

Aurora rolled her bleary eyes, unable to control her finer points of tactfulness at such an hour. So much posturing over a simple kiss! Mentally acknowledging that the request was more of a projection of consent tempered her mild annoyance, especially as it was evident that tonight's course of making the pain go away was to replace it with making love.

She would never brag about it, but Aurora found great satisfaction in the ability to wash away the hurt with her heart and her hands. She had done ever since Maleficent begged her to, the first time they actually made love instead of merely feeding off of each others mutual desires.

"Kiss me," she granted the requested permission, glad that the dream hadn't soured the entire evening. "Hug me, squeeze me. Love me."

She couldn't give them money, nor could she ever imagine being completely dutiful and obedient, however fun it was to let Maleficent try to tame her. But love? Aurora had plenty of that to give.

"Oh, thank God," Maleficent murmured, and surged forth to peck sweet kisses at the edges of Aurora's giggling mouth before brushing her lips along her cheeks, and then her forehead.

Impatient for more, Aurora moved so that she could sweep her tongue along in an invitation before nibbling at the bottom lip that shook in a breathy smile. Maleficent stilled next to her, and pressed back to deepen the kiss.

Running her fingertips down Maleficent's arms before reaching around to wisp them over the taut muscles in her lower back, Aurora reveled in the way they rippled with the promise of strength, flexing before eventually relaxing against each compassionate stroke.

Just as the pads of her fingers played along the swell where planes of sinew met the divinely wrought curve of softer flesh, Maleficent broke their kiss with a gasp. Shimmying down along Aurora's body, she promptly found solace in placing an ear against the thrumming beat of a heart, just between her breasts.

Quick puffs of hot breath fell over Aurora's nipples, and she grinned down at the sight. But instead of the sultry mouth descending upon her aroused peaks, she found closed eyes and furrowed brow once more. Maleficent had asked to set the pace in her own way, so she didn't question it. Her hands wove through the strands of dark hair that fell around them, unfurling and calming the knots in it.

"I'm tired now. Aren't you?" a suddenly weary voice breathed liquid fire over her chest again.

With a sigh, Aurora laid back against the bed. Her hands kept stroking, unwilling to stop what Maleficent seemed to find the most pleasure in tonight – even if it meant foregoing her own. She'd caused quite the ruckus with her tantrum weeks ago, but it didn't get her anywhere. This did, though. This pleased her.

"Mmmhmm," she conceded, and leaned forward to place a lingering kiss to the crown of wavy hair.

For the second time this night, Aurora found solace for herself in the silence. It didn't take too long for her eyelids to flutter shut, safe in the knowledge that she held her love, and in turn was protected by the supine form on top of her.

It didn't take too long for Maleficent to slip from her arms, either. Aurora considered asking where she was off to, but thought it better to not question the common, post-nightmare meandering. Her eyes opened lazily to peek at the ghosting retreat before closing once more.

Maleficent would come back when she was ready. She was sure of that.

* * *

Odd thumping noises assaulted her ears until they could no longer be ignored, and Aurora stretched with a mighty yawn between the tangled sheets of their bed. The sun was well into the sky, so she must have slept late, though she didn't feel as if she'd slept a wink.

"Geez, what is that?" she mumbled, and rubbed her eyes.

Maleficent was sitting on the floor, rummaging deep into boxes while muttering to herself. Once she heard Aurora's inquiry, she smiled and sat back. "Sorry. Some people brought quite a few of your boxes from... well, you know. They're downstairs, and I thought-"

Her voice died out at what Aurora thought must be her befuddled stare. Maleficent ran a dirty hand against a paint splotched button down, and stared back. It must have been what she wore to paint the cottage, or her apartment before – riotous colors staining the white fabric every inch or so. "It reminded me of... Never mind. I thought that I might bring some things up from the basement. Look," she pointed at the bedside table.

Aurora tucked the wayward strands of her hair behind her ears so that she could see better. Her iPhone was still there on the table, along with a cup of coffee. Behind that was a crystal picture frame, throwing prisms in the sunlight.

Her nose wrinkled at the noxious smell of freshly sprayed windex, and she realized that Maleficent must have cleaned the frame recently. Using both hands to pick it up carefully, she squinted down at the two 2x3 pictures set side by side in it. Obviously meant for such, the cut glass frame had two inlaid ovals to display them.

Her finger ran over the still-damp edge of one oval, and her heart clenched as she recognized an older photo of the only woman that had ever protected her before Maleficent. A knot grew in her throat, and Aurora gulped it back before whispering yearningly at the elegantly posed socialite. "Mother..."

"Her picture was thrown in the very top of one of the boxes downstairs, and I hated to see it so abandoned," Maleficent murmured as she watched Aurora expectantly.

Next to Aurora's mother was an even older picture, the woman in it unfailing in her demand to be smiled back at from the depths of celluloid and paper. Hermia Christopoulos had a thick mane of wavy, orange-red hair, reminding her of a sunset that predicted a tempest.

"Ohh," she exhaled reverently, and gave the picture the same sentimental swipe of her finger. "She looks so happy."

Maleficent frowned at that, and rubbed at her forehead with a wince. Rummaging around the box some more, she plucked a tortoiseshell and silver comb and brush set out, along with some perfume bottles. She didn't respond to Aurora's description of her mother, but hummed underneath her breath as she worked a damp rag over the items.

"Headache from staying up half the night?" Aurora wondered aloud.

"Mmm," was the non-committal reply before the humming began anew. Typical.

Watching Maleficent clean the items gave Aurora a chance to notice what else had been brought up from the basement. She looked quizzically at the fine cherry dressing table that had been shoved next to the chair beneath the window, and held her breath as Maleficent placed the gleaming silver and glass on it like the pieces to a puzzle. The book of Plath poetry was there, too – set on the edge of the vanity instead of it's usual place beneath the bed.

Turning towards the bed with a grin, Maleficent then waved her hands at the arrangement. "I don't know why these weren't out. They're too pretty to be locked away, don't you think?"

Unable to stop herself from grinning back, Aurora did so. The day after a nightmare was usually fraught with snappy, closed off behavior from Maleficent, so she considered this a welcome change. "Sure. Whatever makes you happy."

"I _knew_ you'd like them," Maleficent sighed in relief. "Want to go downstairs and see what else came while you were sleeping?"

* * *

Winds howled against a bedroom window in the old mansion at Sevenoaks, a late summer storm brewing far in the distance. Heat and humidity had bowed the wooden floorboards over the years, and they creaked and moaned with each new gust. It sounded like the entire house groaned with each buffeting blast. Even the water pipes squeaked from inside the walls at the rising pressure.

Though the room had long been stripped of the white carpeting and mauve curtains, the full sized bed remained. There weren't any linens on the sagging mattress, and the elements had ravaged the cherry wood of the frame over time, a spiderweb of hairline cracks blemishing the smooth edges.

Beyond that were more pieces of broken furniture, and the door to the hallway, but the woman who sat in the corner didn't care to look. Face buried behind the safety of folded arms around tucked knees, she tapped a bare foot in nervous rhythm against the floor.

It was becoming unbearably hot, but she didn't emerge from the corner. Her wheezing breaths from the dusty, stagnant air echoed in the cocoon created by her position, and the discomfort made her angrier by the second.

Sweat beaded between her tense shoulders to roll down her spine, but Maleficent did not move. "Un-fucking-believable," she hissed, flinching as her voice cracked.

She remembered easing up on the newer medications that Grace had given her, or at least their frequency. Anything would help in her quest to get Tara back from the Crown as soon as possible, and a good impression would never be made on the interview to begin the adoption process if Maleficent listed six different cocktails that would surely give her secret away.

Aurora needed Tara, and stability, too. Living for love alone was not good enough for her amare. She deserved more. She deserved better.

Grace had always assured her that she wasn't crazy. But what else was being stuck like this if not pure insanity? It frightened Maleficent, and her growing rage frightened her more.

"How could you do this to me?" she cried out, and slapped her foot against the floor. "After everything I've done!"

She pressed her fingernails against the skin of her forearms in an attempt to wake up, but there was no pain. It didn't make sense that she felt discomfort elsewhere, except for the fact that she had no power over of her surroundings – not yet.

For fifteen years, Maleficent had led her carefully crafted life. Once the thrill of youth and partying had waned to more singular interests, she'd found comfort in being taught control over herself and her body once more. Sharp wit and a glacial facade eventually replaced naivety and carelessness, protecting her from the world and its potential to hurt her.

But what good was learning how to find pleasure in pain now? What good were all the years of forcing a strict and rigid schedule - drowning herself in a never-ending thirst for lust at night and knowledge during the day - when it was useless against the onslaught of a mind that no longer wanted to obey?

Stefan was dead. It was time to move on from this torture, the nightmares that plagued her when no drink nor drug could pacify the screaming inside her head.

Stefan was dead. Strangely enough, that was the reason she was curled up in a corner in a futile attempt to calm down.

The dream had begun as so many before it, with her seated against the window to wait it out until it's inevitable conclusion. However, this time the goons were missing two vitally important members – Stefan Rose, and Lenny Brewster.

Once her younger self had realized that there was no man holding her down or pulling the garrote tight around her neck, she'd jumped up and gone after the two remaining figments of their shared imagination with vicious intent. Slashing wildly with the very blade that felled her mother, the girl appeared to know no mercy.

And why should she have? Maleficent didn't think she'd ever seen so much blood – imaginary, or otherwise.

The pools of it converging with the grotesque stains already on the carpet seemed to placate the heaving fourteen year old. She didn't even seem to mind that she was naked any longer - if not for the slack chain around her neck and the sheen of red that covered her from head to toe - and spun in a slow circle to admire her work.

With the scene no longer in play and the girl distracted, Maleficent sought to follow Grace's advice to escape. It was a grievous mistake.

As soon as she'd hefted herself up to cross the room, the blood-stained blonde's attention had turned towards her. The girl had coughed a tormented sob in her direction before following her gaze to the only exit from the nightmare.

Springing into action, she had thrown down the knife, and ran out of the damned door first.

By the time Maleficent had reached the door, it wouldn't budge. Oh, how she'd tried to open it – pulling, pushing, and pounding, swearing all the while.

Over the course of several hours, the room changed before her eyes. Each passing minute saw another thing moved, or aged to the point that she remembered it on that fateful night at Sevenoaks; the night she'd waltzed Aurora around the foyer like they were dancing on clouds.

It was maddening, and so here she sat, refusing to watch another moment of the demented workings of her mind.

She could refuse to look, but as the air began to cool and the lavishness of deeply piled carpeting bloomed afresh beneath her feet, it became harder not to.

The smell of decay faded away, replaced by the smell of fresh cut roses and her signature perfume. Drawing in great swaths of breath after suffering in the heat for so long, Maleficent threw her head back against the wall.

"Hi," a timid peep sounded from across the room.

Maleficent's head lolled forward, and her eyes shot open. The bedroom was restored to its original grandeur prior to the events that had led to its decline – wood gleaming with polish, and frills freshly pressed. The bed was piled high with pillows and the awful pink duvet she'd hated for years, and beyond it sat her dressing table.

Seated on the tufted bench, her younger self tilted her head and regarded Maleficent with no small amount of fear. She was arranging and re-arranging the silver brush set, gloved hands already prepared for an evening of dancing. The diamond necklace that had started it all was laid across the table as well, glowing in the incandescent light.

"I hate this dress," she muttered, and wiggled peevishly in the blue lace. "Don't you?"

Small talk – the girl was trying to make small talk after leaving her trapped for God knew how long. Not paying any mind to the notion of how much more cracked up she could be by engaging in it, Maleficent rose to her feet and stalked forward.

"What did you do?" she seethed, and thrust a finger forcefully towards the offending piece of jewelry. "Where did you get that?"

A rosy blush spread across the younger blonde's cheeks, and she looked down at her lap. "It was just a day. One day," she whispered sadly before looking back up. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Maleficent, and a fervor seemed to overtake the tenor of her voice. "I was just so... _mad_. You don't love me like you used to, Mallie. You didn't keep us safe, and I had to know _why_."

Stopping just near the foot of the bed, Maleficent tried to think of one good reason not to tear the girl limb from limb, if only for locking her away. What finally gave her pause was the painful realization that she'd only done the same thing – albeit unconsciously – for fifteen years. "_I said,_ what did you do? Where did you-"

"Aurora's pretty, you know-" the girl interrupted sharply, as she turned back towards the mirror in rebuff. Staring off into the false reflection, she seemed to ponder something important. "-and kind, and loving. You should make more pancakes. She liked them."

"Aurora?" Maleficent croaked, and felt the startlingly sharp bite of her fingernails against her palm as her fists clenched. The girl thought she was loving? That was a stark reversal of her original opinion. "Loving? For the love of God, please tell me you didn't."

"No! Eww, no," she bristled at the accusation before her expression turned dreamy. "I just kissed her, is all. I couldn't help it. Bleedin' hell, she's so _beautiful_..."

The fury she'd kept bottled up during her confinement flared and burned in Maleficent's chest at the confession. "I ought to slap you just for that."

"Uh-huh."

"_Wring your neck."_

"Please?"

Taken aback, Maleficent felt herself sink down onto the bed in shock. "What do you mean, please?" she sputtered.

"Like I said, I just wanted to know why, just for a little while. Sometimes, it felt all wrong and all right at the same time," Lilith puzzled out and straightened her posture in a vain attempt to look brave. Her watery eyes and rapid breathing told otherwise. "All I wanted to do was go back to bed, but I didn't want to leave Aurora."

Her face crumpling in unhappiness as she looked around the room, she began to cry in earnest. "It was scary, but not as scary as this. God, I don't wanna be alone in here any more. I was taking a nice bath..."

"You must have fallen asleep," Maleficent assumed. Every ounce of anger that she'd felt before fled her at the innocent, frightened ramblings. In the anger's place was an ache she'd not felt since being told that her parents were gone – or at least what she thought felt like it.

The girl was terrified to be locked back in this very room with nothing to do but sneak glimpses of happiness that wasn't hers to take. While she'd been very prepared to allow that to happen before, Maleficent now didn't know if she could do something so inhumane. One day here had her at wits end.

Vindication was supposed to taste sweet. It tasted bitter instead, a surprising conclusion to the agony of the mortal sins done to her. Those sins were supposed to cry to Heaven for vengeance – the cry of those murdered, the cry of the abused and orphaned. [2] It was an empty cry, Maleficent realized; cold, and broken.

"Please, Mallie. I just wanna be free, now," Lilith implored. "I don't wanna be in here, but you don't either. She loves _you_. She needs _you_."

The scrape of metal against wood grated against her ears, and Maleficent looked at the source of the noise. The heavy diamond necklace dragged across the vanity until it slipped off, dangling from the grasp of a shaking hand.

"How utterly morbid," she groused, sensing the intention behind it.

The teenage version of herself revealed her own bit of knowledge, garnered through bits and pieces of stolen memories, the shards of an incomplete life. "I'm you, and you're me," she shrugged dolefully.

Bringing the necklace up to her throat, Lilith draped each end of it over a shoulder and held the gem in place against her heart.

"Help me? I can't do it myself."

* * *

1\. Cara – (Latin) An affectionate term derived from the reflexive verb and noun cicaro; meaning to cosset, mollycoddle, or baby someone.

2\. The four sins that cry to Heaven for Vengeance (or _sins that cry to Heaven)_ are a list of sins that Catholics believe demand justice from God:

The "blood of Abel": homicide, infanticide, fratricide, patricide, and matricide  
The "sin of the Sodomites": pride, gluttony, negligence of the poor, abuse of children. The "cry of the oppressed, the cry of the foreigner, the widow, and the orphan": slavery and marginalization  
The "injustice to the wage earner": taking advantage of and defrauding workers


	27. Kalat Lunat, Covella (She Calls Out)

**A/N: Hello readers, and welcome to the last chapter prior to the epilogue of Peccatum in Carne!**

**The Roman Calendar was very different than ours, even though the names for some of our months are based on theirs. The monthly calendar, or the ****_Kalendae_****, began the first day of the month associated with the new moon. Therefore, proposed etymologies of the Latin word kalends theorize that it was derived from the phrase "kalo luno, Covella," which means "hollow Juno, I call [out to] you." This was a public announcement made by officials proclaiming the new moon that marked the Kalends, so that citizens would know that the cycle had begun.**

**You might notice that some of this chapter contains work from the one-shot "Aurora Rose, and the Fierce, Fearsome, Ferocious Fae." It's been edited quite a bit for content, so even if you've read it before, you might want to skim through it again.**

**Also, I'd like to give a special shout out to my new beta reader, Corchen! She's ab-fab!**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

"**Fear and Loathing," Marina and the Diamonds**

"**Total Eclipse of the Heart," Bonnie Tyler**

"**Blinding," Florence + the Machine**

"**Safe," (KMFDM Remix,) Kittie**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Kalat Lunat, Covella (She Calls Out to the Hollow Moon)**

* * *

Scampering about the kitchen, Aurora did a little dance while her iPhone blared another song. Bare feet tapped out a happy rhythm as she pirouetted across the room to deposit the washed plates back into their rightful spot. Today had been gloriously fun for her; Maleficent had helped Aurora to unpack, organize, and stow boxes of belongings shipped from London without a single complaint or wounded, soulful stare. The surprises didn't end there; the suggestion to make pancakes together was issued like a challenge, and a challenge it was. Mayhem ensued, and their playful banter between fistfuls of flour necessitated her love to go upstairs to take a bath after the delicious dinner was eaten.

Aurora was amazingly clean, all considering. She had never imagined Maleficent to have bad aim, and smirked at the thought.

Prior to cleaning up, flour had covered every surface of the kitchen, _and _Maleficent. Aurora could only guess what the bathwater looked like, and shook her head while giggling. The woman couldn't have made more of a mess if she'd tried. Milk had been spilled, and batter wiped from the back of a hand to a sharp cheekbone as Maleficent stared sternly into the bowl while mixing, as if willing it to behave.

And yet, as Aurora wiped down the counter top with a damp rag, she couldn't help but feel like the other shoe was about to drop. When there was a knock at the door interrupting the quiet evening, she knew it had begun to. Rolling her eyes, she deposited the rag into the sink and made her way down the hall and into the foyer.

Once Aurora opened the front door, she gave a knowing pout. It was just so ironic that this particular person would be the interruption.

Elsa stood on the other side, her blue eyes flashing with worry. "Aurora, don't give me that face. Where's Mallie? Why isn't she answering my texts?"

Coughing into her hand to stifle the things she would have liked to say, Aurora then pointed down the hall and towards the far stairs. "Upstairs, taking a bath. What's-"

Her line of questioning was cut off as Elsa shrugged past and down the hall far faster than she could protest. She did anyhow, following Maleficent's best friend and spouting her disapproval for the intrusion. "Geez! What's wrong with you?"

When she reached the threshold of the kitchen, Elsa turned to snatch up the iPhone, pausing the music. Holding out a palm, she laid it against Aurora's chest in a gentle request to wait. "Lille, it's October in a matter of hours," [1] she tried to explain, a cautious frown crossing her lips. "Is she not curled up in a ball, like usual?"

"N-No!" Aurora stammered, and waved her hands around. "We had a good day, Elsa; a really good day."

Just as she was about to carry on about how very lovely their day was, Elsa grimaced and looked back towards the stairs. "Shhhht! Listen."

Aurora stood still, and strained to pick up the noise from upstairs as well. What she heard didn't make any sense once she had. It sounded like a wounded animal attempting to muffle its cries, while caught in the jaws of a trap. Maleficent was sobbing, and trying her hardest to stay quiet.

"_She was fine,_ Els-"

"-Faen alt til helvete," [2] Elsa muttered, and jogged up two steps. Throwing a glance behind her, it was obvious that she was trying not to look disappointed. "You hear this? This is fine?"

Shrinking from the judgmental glance, Aurora huffed before deciding that being supplanted in comforting Maleficent was not going to happen, no matter what date it was. An odd sort of territorial anger burbled in her gut at the teacher's assumptive behavior. If Elsa knew this would happen, why wouldn't she have said something, or offered to help once they were both upstairs?

In her heart, she knew why. Elsa wasn't used to being anything but close and useful to Maleficent during these kinds of days, and they hadn't seen each other more than twice since the trial concluded. Aurora even suspected that Elsa felt guilty for whatever unkind words had gone between both her and Maleficent during the summer, though she still wasn't privy to the exact cause.

Squaring her shoulders, Aurora gave the best impression of her girlfriend's glare to the taller blonde. "I'll go up; not you," she huffed and pointed roughly towards the ceiling.

When Elsa looked fit to be tied at the request, Aurora fluttered her eyes shut in annoyance and put her hands on her hips. Would people ever stop looking at her as if she were a child? "I'm not going to say please. It's what she wants; you know this..."

"I see," Elsa ground out, and plunked her feet roughly as she descended again. Another lament sounded from upstairs, followed by muted weeping. Looking hesitantly between the sounds of pain and Aurora's eyes, she gave a curt nod. "Well then, feisty. Let's see if you've been paying attention to what I've been telling you all summer long."

Aurora might have rolled her eyes again, or given a nasty retort under her breath, but she didn't notice much else than a singular pull that began from her chest, tugging her up the stairs. It led her towards Maleficent with such force that each despairing cry that met her ears left her without breath. She pushed the bedroom door open, and was surprised to find the woman sitting at the dressing table; one hand over her mouth, and the other wrapped around her stomach.

The fist that clenched and unclenched against Maleficent's taut stomach brought Aurora's attention to the fact that her love was nude, and sopping wet. Tendrils of bathwater streaked down from the fanned edges of inky-wet brown hair, weaving to and fro between each protrusion and valley of Maleficent's spine as she heaved. Water trailed from the bathroom and across the carpet, to puddle beneath the ivory silk tufted bench. It looked as if Maleficent had only just sat up in the tub, and found herself somehow seated at the vanity; not a single, soaked tress disturbed.

"Maleficent, hey," Aurora murmured, and held out a tentative hand towards the figure she wished to fold tightly within her arms. _'What's happened?'_ sounded trite, even in her mind. _'What's wrong?'_ was ridiculous. Her lips formed three words before she could ponder much on them, exhaling a statement in a hushed breath. "Don't be sad..."

_'Don't be sad,'_ her inner voice rebuked. _'Smooth, Aurora.'_

Her words seemed to finally register with the woman gazing into the mirror with sightless eyes. Recognition flickered in the pale green orbs, and Maleficent turned towards Aurora with a hitching sigh. Rising up, she reached out longingly towards her, and stumbled unbalanced across the room.

Aurora had seen Maleficent cry, but even in the worst moments just after a nightmare or when a stray tear would slip during an argument, it was a war for control. Those rare cracks in the surface of her girlfriend's guise of restraint were quickly swept away, and hardly ever acknowledged. Maleficent could rage and scream bloody murder with the best of them, but crying represented weakness. For months, Aurora had entertained the idea that she, and only she, was privy to Maleficent's tears.

She didn't know why, but the thought had pleased her. Now she was faced with an unpleasant question; how many years had Elsa seen such a display?

While Maleficent's damp skin met hers, Aurora realized that she'd been standing still, deep in thought. Somehow, her love had teetered across the room, and when arms wrapped around Aurora in an attempt to seek comfort, Maleficent's weight dragged them to the floor.

_'Ten, now. Ten years-'_

The hold around her tightened, and a particularly guttural cry was let loose beside her ear as Maleficent buried her face in Aurora's hair.

"Oh, my darling, my darling," Maleficent chanted as she rocked them back and forth. Those words, over and over, were punctuated with a shaking sob here, and a shriek there.

Aurora tried not to wince at the volume and tenor of her lover's sorrow, and supposed that it was preferable to Maleficent keeping it inside. Was that what she had been doing all day – hiding these feelings and keeping them locked away?

Cupping her hand around the back of Maleficent's head, Aurora wove her fingers into the dripping tangles of hair and rubbed at the flesh of her neck. The more Maleficent carried on, the more palpable and visceral the emotions became. If she concentrated hard enough, Aurora could practically taste the despair, and the grief. What confused her was the way some of it sounded like mourning; though if it were true that Maleficent did this every October, she surmised that the mourning must be for her long-dead parents.

That deduction didn't feel right though, and Aurora shook her head at it. Maleficent shook her head as well, and continued her invocation; the repetitive calling out to her darling. Hugging her love even closer, Aurora tried to reassure her. "I'm right here, Maleficent. It's okay, now..."

"I was a good person, amare," Maleficent bemoaned, and shivered. "I was good."

The creak of the hardwood floor alerted Aurora's attention elsewhere, and she was faced with Elsa's horrified stare. The teacher had entered the bedroom, and now crept around the edge of it, hands brushing against the wall in an attempt to ground herself.

"Herregud, Aurora," [3] she gulped, and cupped a hand against her mouth before letting it drop again. "This isn't right."

Lifting her chin away from Maleficent's shoulder, Aurora scowled. "What do you mean, 'this isn't right?' You _said_-"

Maleficent stiffened in her embrace, and shuffled out of it. Backwards on the carpet she crawled, before snatching a blanket roughly from the wood-chest at the end of their bed. Throwing it over her body, she coughed back another sob before glowering at Elsa. "What do you want?" she spat, and wiped tears away from her cheeks and from beneath her nose with sharp precision.

The question hid so many accusations in it that Aurora did a double-take.

Elsa ignored the question and crossed her arms to glare downwards. "What in the world did you do to your neck? It's all red, and raw."

"I'm fine!" Maleficent hissed, and shrugged the blanket higher.

"I swear to Gud-" Elsa hissed back, just as furious. "If either of you says the word 'fine' again, I'll lose my own mind. I've only come to check on you, as I always do!"

The two friends began a squabbling interlude of interrupting one another, replete with widely sweeping and gesturing hands. Meanwhile, Aurora's eyes slid over the indentation on Maleficent's neck that Elsa had mentioned. She hadn't noticed it before, though she knew exactly what caused it.

Her gaze zeroed in on the necklace that laid precariously on the edge of the dressing table, the diamond encrusted chain twinkling like some sick joke. The prosecution's evidence team brought it over this morning, and she'd thought it strange when Maleficent placed the blue velvet box atop the vanity without much care, instead of stuffing it into the safe.

Swallowing the bile that rose to her throat, Aurora then bit her lip to keep from spilling her discovery. She stood up, and came between the arguing women. "Hey! If you're here to help Maleficent, then pissing her off even more isn't a good start!"

Both Maleficent and Elsa froze in shock at her outburst, their eyes wide like owls at her gumption.

Recovering her senses first, Elsa snarled at Aurora for the slight. "Fine! What would you have me do, hmm? Stand here some more and listen to some more of her caterwauling while you sit there and do nothing?"

Maleficent limped forward a step, and her eyes glittered in warning towards her friend. "You want to do something for me? Go downstairs, Elsa-"

"-But!"

"-Go downstairs, and call Dr. Foley," Maleficent ordered forcefully, and pointed to the door. "I need to talk to her, face to face."

Elsa jumped with surprise at the request, and frowned. Her posture deflated a bit, as if resigned to doing what had been asked, but she wanted to make sure. "All these years you've resisted, and now you want a head doctor? I mean, I know it's been hard on you this year, Mallie. Faen, it's been shite for us all."

Raising her chin in a show of strength, Maleficent stared Elsa down. It would have been convincing if she wasn't sniffling every few seconds, or if her hands weren't trembling behind her back. Aurora reached behind her to hold one of those hands in solidarity, and squeezed.

With a shuddering breath, Maleficent answered. "I'd like," she began, but paused to look at the wall to quell the glassy tears that collected faster than she could control. "I'd like some tea, too."

Waiting until Elsa sighed in defeat and made her way downstairs to do as she was bid, Aurora then sat on the edge of the bed. "What now?" she whispered, purposefully leaving the inquiry open to interpretation.

"_What now?" she had whispered, hands clasping the tops of her arms as she crossed them. _

_Grace smiled sympathetically, and reached across the table to gather the bag of Maleficent's things to take back with her. "Now? Now I suppose we'll both wait for the day when she accepts what is truly happening... That she's beginning to heal."_

_Aurora fidgeted, discomfited by the idea of waiting rather than actively doing something to help. "How will I know when that is?"_

"_I may work for the fuzz, as it were, Miss Rose. But, I'm also a trauma certified clinical psychologist," the doctor chuckled lightly under her breath. "If you'll pardon my poetic reflection on the inner workings of a mind, I'll try to explain."_

"_Please," Aurora pleaded, desperate to know no matter how dreadful it all sounded._

_Nodding with satisfaction, Grace folded her hands in an attempt to convey two things coming together. "There will come a day when the parts of a whole that have long been separated converge on each other. It's frightening to a patient, and often to the people around them. Confusion, anger, grief, and self-harm are all very common, because the patient has so long denied that they are anything than they appear to be: a loving person, or a doting teacher. Normal, and good."_

_Nodding back to show she understood, Aurora tilted her head. "Like Maleficent."_

"_Yes, like Maleficent. But normal doesn't exist, Miss Rose. Nobody is one-hundred percent good, either," Grace answered. _

_Her hands came apart, and this time they slapped together hard. Gripping tightly, Dr. Foley made a sound akin to an explosion. "__Accepting this causes the most beautiful shattering of the soul when the separate parts come together again. They must kill the idea of existence as an abstract entity. It is painful, but exquisite."_

Maleficent sat beside Aurora, their shoulders touching startling her.

Having retrieved her iPhone from the bedside table, Maleficent was attempting to dial the unknown London number. Her shaky fingers were refusing though, and Aurora closed a hand gently over Maleficent's.

"Please," she pleaded, just like that day with Dr. Foley. _'Let me help.'_

So many things suddenly made sense, but Aurora admittedly found it difficult to reconcile the woman that had danced half-naked around the kitchen, covered in flour while singing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' with the woman that apparently beat Lenny Brewster's face to a pulp with the butt of a gun. The more she pondered on it, Aurora wasn't sure that she wouldn't have done the same thing. The disconnect occurred when Maleficent found it difficult to reconcile the parts of herself as well; the serious, dignified lady whose facade was as icy as it was impenetrable, and the alternately illogical, playful, and diabolically wicked woman.

Maleficent had always warned Aurora that she didn't know what she was asking of her, especially when Aurora craved the darker parts of her girlfriend's lovemaking repertoire.

"Call the London office, please. Give your name, and tell them to send someone. Tell them I'm ready," Maleficent entreated, folding the cell phone into the curve of Aurora's palm. "They will know what you mean."

Aurora looked back at the vanity, where the necklace still winked in the dim light of the bedroom's lamps. She understood now that each and every time she had requested it was like asking Maleficent to look into the mirror and embrace the impure; that tainted avenging angel inside. She also understood that the woman who made pancakes and danced in her underwear was also the woman who nearly choked her unconscious in the woods. They had been doing this dance since the first night she stayed here, though neither of them realized it; this waltz of compulsion, corruption, and pain.

They would be free of it before long, and that made Aurora smile.

Leaning against Maleficent's shoulder, she cradled the iPhone between her hands. "All those tears over a pancake batter fight," Aurora joked, trying to convey what she knew while lightening the mood. She secretly hoped that part of Maleficent was still very much there, but inside and warm, rather than outside in the cold. "...and one very sleepy, sloppy kiss."

Maleficent's non-committal hum and wary flinch was all too revealing. She stared at Aurora until her astonishment faded, and rubbed at her neck. "Call London, amare."

* * *

Ava sat at the tiny cottage's kitchen table, shoved between Elsa and a former nun she couldn't quite remember the name of now that the woman was out of her habit. It was funny how she could place the religious womenfolk's monikers more easily when it was just a face and a Mary something-or-other to recall. However, the nuns at the school didn't typically bother with calling each other by Mary, which only made it more confusing.

To the right of the penguin was the erstwhile Monsignor, Robin Flaherty. Ava could remember his name perfectly well, for all the scandal his leaving the church and taking the nun with him caused. It was the newer talk of the town. Though she felt sorry for the pair, their predicament took the spotlight further off Maleficent and Aurora, and by proxy herself and Elsa. They had attended a concert in York last week, and Elsa was noticed by several intrepid photographers standing outside the music hall. Apparently, the rest of Britain had yet to move on from the trial, or the media hype that surrounded all involved.

Now, Ava's schedule had been interrupted by another one of Maleficent's requests. The formidable woman had wanted as many witnesses present today as possible, and Elsa had jumped to comply even faster than before the summer's fall-out between Ava's fiancee and her friend.

It wasn't as though Ava did not pity Maleficent Moore; no, that certainly wasn't it. Ava just couldn't help but feel that Maleficent waiting until someone tried to murder her again before seeking assistance was a bit of malingering on the woman's part.

Maleficent sat on the other side of the table, her eyes narrowing at Ava with a weird sixth sense for the mental wanderings. It was hard not to yell out in annoyance at the obvious intimidation tactic, but Ava constrained herself to glaring back daggers instead.

Aurora sat beside Maleficent, and the young woman appeared nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof as she observed the silent battle. There was food laid out, but nobody ate. It was by far the most solemn "party" Ava had ever attended, and she wondered how it could even be considered a celebration without a birthday cake. Something had to be done.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," she grumbled, and made the bold first move towards the munchies. Chewing on a crudité, Ava then gestured around the table, carrot stub in hand. "Some bald-headed mouth breather arrives, and you make him a cup of tea. He eats a crisp or two. We all drool over the bloody damned diamond, and then he whisks it away into the night. Am I missing anything?"

Everyone seated did a slow turn towards her, their faces pictures of varying shock, disdain, and humor. When there was a knock at the front door, most made a mad dash to escape and answer it.

"No, I don't think you've missed anything Ava," Maleficent answered in a clipped tone, and crossed her arms. "Unlike the time of the ceremony on your wedding invitations."

The dig at the printer's error had Ava quick on the defensive. "Yes well, we wanted a smaller wedding anyway. Less people will miss us when we move- nnnngh," she grunted as Elsa squeezed her thigh beneath the table.

The intentionally spilled information made Maleficent's face screw up in what resembled anger, and anticipated pain. "Move?! Whatever do you mean?" she blurted out, and reached towards Elsa. "What nonsense is this?"

Elsa looked dolefully at the ceiling, and released her grip on Ava's thigh. "February 28th, Mallie. We're going to Norway for the honeymoon on February 15th, and our things will already be packed to be moved by the 28th. I'll only be coming back to say goodbye, and supervise."

"G-Goodbye?" Maleficent questioned, folding in on herself before Ava's eyes with the weight of sudden sadness.

"Ah geez, Maleficent," she interrupted, abashed at the turmoil she'd created with her mouth. The woman's responses were even harder to anticipate ever since she began therapy, and they were giving Ava whiplash. Elsa had warned her that Maleficent's moods ran the gamut from irascible to immature and back again in the blink of an eye, and she'd only been to two appointments.

Granted, Dr. Foley had insisted quite firmly on a rapid course of action once she saw the way Maleficent tore up her own neck. They'd traveled back and forth to some fancy clinic in Scarborough that the doctor trusted, and the "treatments" had been hours long.

Ava remembered all too well the overflow of emotions and the exhaustive sessions that psychiatrists insisted upon during the beginning of the "journey to recovery," and her lips pursed into a stubborn frown. She refused to be blamed by Aurora or Elsa for being the cause of yet _another_ one of Maleficent's moods today. It was the harridan's birthday, after all.

Sighing dramatically, Ava tried to backpedal, and fast. "It's not like Aurora hasn't sent out applications to universities in the States. Half of them are in Washington DC or Virginia. We'll come and visit, when we can."

Their conversation was discontinued when the guests poured back into the kitchen, chattering loudly and toting a wind-blown Dr. Foley and, as fate would have it, a balding man in a dark suit.

The gemologist had beady eyes behind thick glasses, and he wiped a sweaty forehead like a pompous arse with his handkerchief. Looking at Maleficent like she was a viper, and he the prey that had stumbled upon her den, the stranger somehow managed to collect himself enough to bob his shiny head in deference.

"Miss LaFey! I mean-" he blundered over his introduction and gave a throaty, uncomfortable laugh. When met with silence, the man tried again by offering a hand to shake. "Miss Moore. Miss... Maleficent Moore. My name is Tim Reardon, and it's quite an honor."

With a stare that conveyed the suffering at the reminder of who she really was, and promised agony for the gemologist who dared speak it, Maleficent declined the handshake. She pushed aside a bowl of crisps and reached into her pocket, dragging out a diamond wreath with an even larger pendant in one fluid motion to dump it on the table like spare change.

Both Aurora and Mr. Reardon had similar reactions to Maleficent's careless treatment of the bauble, though the gemologist was fairly more comical in his. Gasping aloud, he brought a fist to his lips like he wanted to bite it, and whined pathetically for the words he dared not speak.

For her part, Aurora merely gasped Maleficent's name in exasperation. The fact that Maleficent allowed her to do so without batting an eyelash at the young blonde spoke volumes, and Ava took note of it.

The remaining guests took this moment to take their seats once more, though Dr. Foley placed a supportive hand on Maleficent's shoulder.

It was promptly shrugged off, and Maleficent almost growled at the poor sod who was still standing. "Well, get on with it, would you? I have a birthday to celebrate."

"Of course, ma'am," Reardon assented, and produced a brand new pair of white gloves from a crisp plastic sleeve inside his briefcase. Slipping them on, he lifted the necklace from the table with great reverence, and cradled the pear-shaped diamond like the Christ child Himself.

After attaching a magnifier to his thick glasses, Reardon squinted down at the gem while hefting it over in his hand. "Ehm, if I could have some assistance?"

To Ava's bewilderment, Aurora piped up first. "I'll help you, Mr. Reardon," the bubbly girl volunteered, and rummaged through the briefcase like an old professional. She snapped a portable lamp together with ease, and handed the man what appeared to be a gauge of some sort.

"T-Thank you, Miss Rose," he smiled genuinely, and measured the length and width of the diamond with the tool. Next came the lamp, which glowed golden against the wooden tabletop, though the bulb itself appeared to be blue. "Everyone might want to look away for this bit. I'm used to it, but..."

Elsa and the other guests did as Reardon suggested, but Aurora, Maleficent, and Ava looked on. Four pairs of eyes watched as the gloved hands slipped the jewel beneath the light, transforming it from an ordinary chocolate-brown into shades of glittering orange fire.

"Jesus!" Ava exclaimed, averting her gaze from the prisms and fractals that shone off the diamond like lasers. "What the fook is that?"

Grinning broadly at her, the gemologist took the necklace from beneath the lamp and tucked it into a blue velvet case that Aurora produced. "The Jewel of the Moors, the Chrysanthemum. She glows like the passion of Heaven, and the fires of Hell. The Yang to the Hope Diamond's Yin," he spouted off like a crazed cult adherent.

Maleficent snorted indelicately, and the back of a hand smacked softly against her shoulder.

Aurora's face pinked with an embarrassed, albeit pleased smile. "Stop that," she giggled.

The she-devil looked up at her girlfriend and hummed a short reply, cheeking her own smile for the radiant young woman that called her bluff.

"Well?" Maleficent raised her brow towards Mr. Reardon, and leaned back to cross her arms again.

"It is her," he assured, more to himself than anyone else. "The firm will attend its auction at Sotheby's per your request. I believe you're asking for three quarters profit?"

Nodding her agreement, Maleficent finally took the opportunity to grab a carrot from the plate, and munched it slowly. She was well aware of how the wait would set the man on edge. "Starting bid?"

Reardon took his kerchief out to pat his sweaty brow once more. "Thirty million," he offered. "It's a solid launching point."

A sharp inhalation was the start to Maleficent's first retort, but it seemed to flicker out by the time it reached her tongue. "Done," she relented, and made a haughty shooing motion with her hands. "Remove it from my sight."

She may have been attempting to hide her fear in allowing the diamond out of her possession, but Ava knew that Maleficent only brought out that prideful attitude when really, truly afraid. She had seen it when Elsa threatened to end their friendship, and thrown Maleficent out of their home. It had been the same expression that met her when she chased a fever-crazed Maleficent around this very cottage with a syringe of Orfimev.

The gemologist did as he was ordered, and packed his briefcase with the blue velvet box and his tools. When the case was closed, he produced a set of tiny keys from a chain attached to his belt, and locked it shut.

"Now, let's get this party started," Dr. Foley interrupted the silence, and produced a two layer chocolate cake from her bag on the floor. Sliding it onto the counter, she went about removing the confection from its protective box.

The guests all whooped with glee and excitement, but Maleficent shrunk from the cake and hissed as Dr. Foley picked it up and placed it in front of her. "Grace! You didn't!"

"You promised to try," the psychologist reminded Maleficent over her protests. "Just try."

Aurora, with her kind and understanding heart, sat as close to Maleficent as she could without crawling into her lap. Taking two candles from the doctor's hand, she pressed them into the top of the cake, and lit them with a match offered from Robin Flaherty. "See? Three," she whispered, choking on withheld tears, "and zero. Thirty."

"Happy Birthday to you..." the nun started to sing, twirling her fingers in the air to carry the tune.

Eventually, all but Maleficent and Ava joined in. This time, when their gaze met across the table and a single tear worked its way down Maleficent's cheek, she at least tried to look sympathetic.

Mr. Reardon leaned against the wall, crying openly as he warbled his way through the song. Ava scrunched her nose at the man who acted just as proudly as Aurora, and nearly as troubled as Maleficent while everyone else sang merrily. He sure was a daffy bloke.

Once the tune ended, Maleficent closed her eyes, and refused to look at the burning candles any longer.

Leaning her head against Maleficent's shoulder, Aurora released a slow, patient sigh. "Make a wish?" she coaxed. "You have to make a wish."

Taking a giant breath in, Maleficent held it for a few seconds as her eyes opened to dart around the room. At long last satisfied with what she saw, her eyelids drifted back shut.

Extinguishing the flames with one blow, she made her first birthday wish in over a decade.

* * *

Morning broke gray and dreary on October 31st. A distinct bite was in the air, signaling the change between the seasons. Soon, the bizarre period between autumn and winter would be upon the countryside, and with it all the slushy, awful weather that Aurora despised. Real snow was her favorite; fluffy, sparkly and white, but that wasn't expected for some time.

With a yawn, she rolled in the flannel sheets and downy comforter of her bed. She had awoken cold, and her hand stretched out blindly for the familiar warm body beside her, but it found none. Confused by this, Aurora leaned on one elbow and blinked tired eyes into the dim light. The wall clock stated that it was only 6:54 AM, and she shook her head full of tangled blonde waves with a huff. Her girlfriend was known to be an early riser, but this was decidedly much earlier than usual.

"Maleficent?" she called out blearily. There was no answer, nor were there the requisite sounds and smells of tea being made. Their home was also devoid of the aroma of coffee.

Emerging from her duvet cocoon, she placed both feet on the hardwood that peeked from beneath the throw rugs of their bedroom, and yelped at the icy chill that ran through her. Goosebumps erupted up her legs and though her body, and she leapt up with a smattering of curses.

Thankful that she didn't have an audience to poke fun at her stiff dancing across the room, Aurora snatched at a white cotton nightgown once inside their walk-in wardrobe. It was so laughably different than any of the other clothing that hung here; full of frothy, lacy edges and pintucking. Right now, she sought warmth, and didn't care to dwell on where the out-of-place garment came from so long as it fulfilled her needs. Throwing it over her head and shoving her arms through the long sleeves, she then layered it with a cable knit wrap sweater. Even then, her teeth chattered.

Aurora made her way down the stairs, shivering the entire way. Peeping around the corner, and into the open area of the eat-in kitchen, she shouted. "Maleficent! Where are you?"

The hall clock chimed, notifying her that it was now 7 o'clock in the morning. Running a hand through her mess of hair, she tried to keep calm.

"Don't be ridiculous, Aurora. There's nobody here to kidnap us. Or kill us. Or both," she wheezed in a feeble attempt to coach herself down the last step.

Maleficent had taught her to observe their surroundings when in situations like this. The hyper aware woman was forever grasping Aurora out of the way of oncoming traffic or unsavory looking people whether they were in London or Middlesbrough, uttering obscenities at her lack of self-preservation. At first, it had seemed like a game.

That was until Lenny barged in unnoticed, months ago. Shaking her head obstinately, Aurora refused to give that day another thought.

Her blue eyes wandered the kitchen for signs of life. On the counter was the rose and vine decorated cup and saucer; Maleficent's favorite. It was half empty, and judging from the lack of steam, the tea inside had gone long cold. Beside it was a container of the butterscotch scones that they'd baked the evening before.

A small smile lit up her face at the memory; they had made two batches, side by side. Maleficent's scones had baked up perfectly, while hers had burnt to a crisp, much to their joint chagrin.

_'You're not being gentle enough...' Maleficent had said, wiping flour away from her cheek. _

_'I warned you about beating it too harshly,' she pointed at Aurora's now empty bowl and howled with laughter. 'I... Oh, sod off!'_

One corner of the tupperware was still open, and it looked as though the burnt scones had been removed. Seeing that nothing else was out of place, Aurora snuck down the last stair and spun into the kitchen, her hands out in defense. It was then that movement caught her eye outside the large window over the sink. Someone was near the woods, past the evergreen bushes and long-dead clusters of summer shrubs and flowers that made up the cottage's vast garden.

Maleficent was sitting at the treeline, black paisley wellies covering her legs up to the knee. One of her robes was underneath the quilted barn jacket that she liked to wear when pulling dead things and culling plants outside.

There was more movement from the forest. "Ohhhh," Aurora cooed, her hand reaching out spontaneously towards the scene.

A doe wandered from the thicket of trees, and tenderly nibbled at Maleficent's outstretched hand. Her mahogany tressed head bowed slightly at the little creature. When the doe did not startle, it received a tentative caress on its furry cheek with her knuckles. Then, Maleficent's hand opened to reveal another burnt scone.

Tiptoeing over to the dutch door that led to the gardens, Aurora slipped on a pair of clogs that laid beside the door. They were far too big for her feet, but she tried to move as quietly as possible as she walked into the freezing morning. However she tried, the footwear made a swish-slosh sound in the frosty grasses, and the doe noticed. Halfway to the tree line, the deer made eye contact as if to assess whether or not she was a danger. Its wide, brown eyes blinked and looked back towards Maleficent.

"Shhh," Maleficent said, a lulling spell of calm accompanying the sound. Aurora wasn't sure if she was speaking to the doe, or to her. Perhaps it was both.

"Um, hi... hullo there," she whispered in response before falling silent.

Most people never really considered the woman before her to be anything but her typical somber self, and most definitely not one prone to flights of fancy that involved frolicking with woodland creatures. There were moments when Aurora could glimpse a carefree soul beneath it all, and she relished them.

Aurora knew that soul existed, and that was enough.

"Sit," the ethereal being clothed in all of her mish-mosh finery appealed.

The doe tilted her fine, delicate head at the word and seemed to agree before chewing at some more scone. Commands seemed to have no power here, and there was only the equal and shared respect between them.

Crouching in the cold grass, Aurora enjoyed the tranquility. "Does she have a name?"

"I'm sure she does, but I don't know it," Maleficent murmured, tracing a tender finger along the animal's soft neck.

Wiggling closer to sit down next to the pair, Aurora looked back and forth between the chocolate eyes of the doe and the green eyes of her lover. "Couldn't we just call her Clarice, like from Rudolph?"

A somehow elegant chortle came from Maleficent as she broke apart another scone. "I told you, she has a name. Just because we don't know it doesn't mean we ought to give her a human one."

Teasing fell heavy on Aurora's tongue, but she bit against the words and swallowed them. It was Maleficent's strangeness that she loved the most – her unique way.

"Feed her one more piece, amare. Any more and she'll twist her gut," she said, nudging a piece of the delicacy into Aurora's cupped hand.

Her hand rising up, the doe took the proffered treat from Aurora and chomped on it thoughtfully. It knew that she was not a threat by this point, and she imagined that the animal fancied her to be a companion to the one who always brought food.

Snuffling around for more, the deer contented itself by rubbing a velvety nose against the smooth hand when it found none.

"There you go," she giggled, brushing her hand against the doe's forehead and down to its nose.

Grunting its thanks, white puffs of steam came from the doe's mouth. She turned away and strode back into the forest, not looking back.

As if the visiting animal was not enough strangeness for one morning, Maleficent unfolded several of her pristine scones from a napkin in her lap once the deer had gone. These she placed on rocks that scattered the little clearing at the edge of the tree line, but only after brushing any dirt off of them first with her hands.

"What are you doing, silly?" Aurora smirked. "Trying to catch ants?"

A wry grin thrown over her shoulder was Maleficent's reply as she continued to place the scones. Once finished, she brushed her hands off and took Aurora's arm.

"It's for the fairies," she revealed as they walked back towards the house.

Aurora held back her disbelief until she shut the back door, and Maleficent sat to tug her wellies off.

"The fairies. Really?" she chuckled, no longer able to contain herself. "Are you feeling all right?"

"_I'm fine_," Maleficent sputtered, standing to reach for her tea. "You don't question me feeding a wild animal, but you question me leaving an offering for some of the most ferocious creatures known to mankind on the day when they go from their summer homes to their winter homes?"

"Um, fierce? Ferocious?" Aurora snorted as she made tiny legs with two fingers of her hand, and walked them across the counter to hop on Maleficent's shoulder. "Pixies are scary?"

Frowning, Maleficent flicked the playful fingers away. "I see the Victorian age has poisoned your mind as well. The Fair Folk are not all tiny, amare. Some are very fearsome."

Aurora shrugged and sat down as well. "I don't understand," she pouted. "I thought fairies were nice. Besides, how do you know?"

"Some are nice, but not all," Maleficent chuckled at the pout. "I know because... well, I just do. What is my name?"

Rolling her eyes in irritation, Aurora rose to shuffle towards the coffee pot. "Maleficent, of course."

She poured water into the carafe, measured the grounds, and turned the machine on, but there was only the sounds of Maleficent's breathing behind her. Had she hurt her feelings?

Aurora bit her lip and turned an apologetic eye on the woman seated at the table, who was currently studying her teacup as if it held the wonders of the world. Just as she was about to speak, Maleficent interrupted softly – ever so softly.

"When the first man named Adam saw that he was all alone, God made for him a woman like himself. She was made from the earth, and God called her name forth. She would be named Lilith. He brought her to Adam, and they immediately began to quarrel." At this, she raised an eyebrow and waggled it.

"Adam said: "You lie beneath me." And Lilith said: "No, you lie beneath me! We are both equal, for both of us are from the earth." And they would not listen to one another," Maleficent laughed mirthlessly before continuing on. "As soon as Lilith saw this truth, she uttered the True Name of God to escape, and flew up into the air to hide from His divine eyes."

Aurora crossed her legs and uncrossed them as she listened to the tale. "I understand that much, but why you?" She'd been taught for years that Lilith was made a demon for her insolence towards God. Beautiful and evil all at once, she would steal mortal children in recompense for the archangels dooming a hundred of her children to die.

Maleficent's lips pressed together before she responded. "I remember now that my father named me, and for the longest time the running joke was that it was a jab towards my grandparents at being so angry for my mother falling pregnant out of wedlock. A monstrous name for a monstrous sin, you see."

Blowing out a heavy breath, her eyes grew glassy. "But he taught me many things, my father. Not all people think that Lilith is a demon, or whatever most Christians believe. The French say she was Mother of the fairies. My mother even used to joke that my father was one, and that's how he stole her heart," Maleficent bit her lip, and shrugged.

Sidling up to Maleficent, Aurora ran a thumb lovingly over the trapped bottom lip, releasing it before placing a kiss over where her finger had laid. "Well, it must be true; for you have stolen mine."

* * *

Aurora patted angrily at her hair, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Of all nights, her standard spray and curl 'sexy' hairstyle chose to become 'untamed, frizzy mess.'

She tried to ignore the wildness of her golden tresses in favor of applying some lip gloss. The bathroom was getting too warm for comfort, and a bead of sweat ran from between her shoulders and down her back underneath her tight dress.

For the first time in forever, she and Maleficent were going out alone. No police escorts, no haranguing friends; just them.

Where they were headed was a complete mystery, although their plans had also been unknown to her until she'd mentioned at 2:00PM that they didn't have a stitch of candy for any trick or treaters brave enough to approach the cottage.

Maleficent had laughed wholeheartedly at that. _"I was a teacher, Aurora... and now they think me an elitist stranger. Children will throw toilet paper on my trees and run screaming when I yell out the windows at them. No, we're going out."_

A knock on the bathroom door disturbed her from the daydream. "Are you quite finished in there?" Maleficent complained. "We needed to leave ten minutes ago."

"Fine, fine... I'm ready!" Aurora groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Throwing open the bathroom door, she was ready to complain right back for the interruption. However, what she found robbed her of the ability to speak. "Oh, uhm..." she squeaked, her hair standing on end.

Behind the door, she found the epitome of dark allure.

Maleficent's heavily lidded eyes peered down at Aurora in appraisal, made up with charcoal shadow and mascara. The effect may have been overdone on some people, but it made her irises shine like peridots. The perennially ruby lips that the woman favored curled into a smile, but it was crooked and filled with the promise of quite dastardly fun.

Drawing an arm down from the door frame to rest it just below her barely covered breasts, Maleficent propped her other hand on her hip. Beneath it, a highly slit skirt flashed glimpses of a garter connected to the top of her seamed stockings.

All of this, and Maleficent whispered, "Beautiful, Aurora. You are beautiful."

"Me?" Aurora worried her lip with her teeth and brushed at the short white dress she'd paired with heavy jewelry and silver heels in spirit of the evening. One could wear practically anything on Halloween and not be overdressed; or in Maleficent's case, under-dressed. "I can't compare to you," she motioned towards the display of utter seduction before her.

"Nonsense," Maleficent tsked, sweeping an arm around Aurora to draw her towards the stairs. "You are perfect, my stella ardens." [4]

They made their way downstairs and out the door. While Maleficent locked up, Aurora hopped into the already warm and purring Jag.

It was these little things that made her heart swell even more with love for the woman that strode away from their home to slide gracefully behind the wheel.

The mischievous look that meant something exciting was about to happen flashed in Maleficent's eyes, and a scarf of black fabric was held aloft in offering.

Scooting forward so that the blindfold could be applied, Aurora shivered. "You're really taking this whole surprise thing seriously, aren't you?"

As the car shifted into reverse, and made a three point turn to veer off the drive and onto the road, the sinfully deep laugh she'd come to expect sent another shiver of exhilaration down her skin.

"Oh, amare. I always keep my promises."

* * *

An hour of requested silence between them and copious rock songs later, Aurora felt the car being parked. "Where are we?" she peeped, knowing well enough to not remove her blindfold without prior approval.

"A bar," Maleficent answered elusively. "If I remove the scarf, will you keep your eyes closed? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," Aurora muttered, frowning at the insinuation.

"Keep pouting, and I'll give you something to pout about," her lover warned, reaching behind her curls to loose the knot and remove the fabric from her eyelids. "Tonight is about learning to listen, learning to feel. Our eyes can draw us in like moths to a flame to places we'd like to go, or warn us from places we'd never have chosen to go. But sight can be deceiving," she instructed.

The wheels began to turn in Aurora's mind. "O-kay..." She'd always been taught that seeing was believing. Still, she kept her eyes closed.

The driver's side door snapped shut, and she waited impatiently for hers to open.

It did in time, and cool hands tugged on hers. "Come, now."

The hands guided Aurora along the sidewalk and to the door of a noisy club. What sounded like a bouncer didn't request their fee, but only checked Aurora's identification. "Good night eh, Mallie?"

Aurora was definitely confused now. "They know you here?" she shouted over the din of music.

"The bouncer does," a voice answered directly into her right ear, effectively startling her.

Arms wrapped around her waist, steering her forward. "Now, listen and feel."

"I'm listening!" Aurora yelped. But how could she truly listen with the constant thump of bass over the speakers?

They bumped through people left and right to take a place on the dance floor, and the hands that had guided Aurora now ran lightly over her ribs and hips before coming to rest over her lower stomach. She felt Maleficent press into her from behind, swaying to the rhythm of the song.

While Maleficent couldn't exactly dance, this she could do. Aurora's heart swelled with gratitude for the careful way their night had been planned.

"Remember, don't open your eyes," another reminder was issued. How was it that Maleficent could speak so quietly in a roomful of noise, and sound so very loud?

"In this darkness, troubled waters... Lies a flicker of hope's fire," she sang along, sending goosebumps down Aurora's flesh with the truth of the words she spoke.

Between the rising heat of the room they were dancing in, and the bodies that seemed to be getting closer and closer, Aurora began to feel claustrophobic. Her pulse began to race, and tight puffs of air came from her lips.

A kiss was placed on her right earlobe. "Say when, darling."

"I'm... I'm okay," she murmured, pressing more firmly into her lover's embrace.

The hands holding her close wandered up to brazenly caress her breasts, and a gasp caught in Aurora's throat. Still, her body moved with the undeniable connection to the one behind it, refusing to give up contact – refusing to leave the promise of safety. Drums pounded over the sound system, and she realized that her heartbeat had moved to beat in tandem with it.

"Come to your senses, wager a risk I won't let go. Waiting for this; its wonderful reality. I watch as this golden bird flies free," Maleficent crooned, grazing her fingernails across Aurora's collarbone and down her arms.

As time passed, Aurora realized what her girlfriend meant by 'listen,' and 'feel.' With each song, her body became more relaxed; emotions spiking her blood in tandem with the words being sung. Her skin was alive with the feather light touches that were vastly more attention grabbing than a jostle from a patron here and there. If she concentrated hard enough, the exhalations in her ear could be matched with the push of breasts against her shoulder blades.

Laying her head back onto a shoulder, she threw her arms up so that her hands could slide through the shiny brown hair that existed only in her mind at the moment. Aurora couldn't see Maleficent, but she could envision her.

She heard Maleficent licking at her lips, and the sound reminded Aurora to test her own. They were dry.

"I think we're thirsty," she spoke to the ceiling, knowing that yelling was wholly unnecessary by this point.

"I don't want to leave you on the dance floor alone," Maleficent said, pulling her closer for emphasis.

Aurora beamed, and released her hold. "Go! Go to the bar. I'll plant my feet in one spot and sway, I swear."

With a harsh exhale and a gulp, the body behind her was gone. Air that must have been hot as a summer's day blew past Aurora's back and neck, but it felt like the coolest spring breeze off of a lake. She hadn't realized how much body heat their dancing had generated. Bolstered by the sensation, she continued to careen and move with the crowd of people, her hands thrown over her head in abandon.

A hand slid around one of her wrists as she turned towards the noise of clinking glasses, and for a moment her heart sang with joy. It was a very brief, fleeting moment.

The palm was too big, and much too hot. It squeezed rather than stroked, and Aurora tugged her wrist back with a scowl.

When a gruff voice had the nerve to come closer and ask if her girlfriend shared, Aurora screamed for dear life. Her blue eyes flew open in horror.

Spurred on by her yelling, Maleficent scurried from the bar as fast as she could, and put a stiff arm against the man's chest to push him away.

Her eyes gleamed with rage, and her white teeth were bared in a most fearsome display. "What. Are. You. Doing?" she spat at him.

The obviously drunk gentleman knew when to pick his battles, and threw his hands up in a show of submission before backing away.

Much larger in life than his voice gave him credit for, the bouncer jogged over to intercede. "Easy, Mallie. It's Halloween, you know? They're all plastered," he plead the idiot's case. "No bloodshed tonight, okay?"

Aurora was boggled at the exchange between the muscle-bound doorman and Maleficent.

Swallowing back a curse, Maleficent agreed before speaking to her. "We're going home, amare."

"All right," she replied, and allowed Maleficent to walk her towards the front door. Looking back at the tall man in wonder, Aurora uttered a question that refused to be denied. "Where do you know um... Mallie from?"

The bouncer's hefty hand looked like it could knock a giant down, but it patted Aurora's cheek like she was spun glass. Winking at Maleficent, he turned and walked back towards the bar.

Pointing at his retreating figure, Aurora glared at her girlfriend's subterfuge. "What the hell was that?"

Maleficent merely raised her eyebrow before curling her arm around Aurora, and walked again towards the door. "We'll talk in the car," she insisted.

Stomping away from Maleficent's embrace and through the bar's exit sent shots of pain up Aurora's legs. She hadn't noticed the fatigue until this point, but refused to give up the pretense of anger for the sake of her feet. Quickly spotting the Jag across the street, she tottered across in her heels and crossed her arms, awaiting the doors to be unlocked.

Making her way much more leisurely to the car to avoid drawing attention from other revelers to her slight limp, Maleficent unlocked the passenger side door and slid the seat forward. She motioned to the back seat and gave an apprehensive smile. "Talk first. Then we'll drive, hmm?"

"Fine," Aurora snarked, climbing her way into the back seat. When Maleficent slid in and closed the door behind them, she turned to face her lover with a glare. "So, talk. He's an American, or at least a transplant. I can hear it in his accent, or lack thereof."

Quirking a brow, Maleficent pulled Aurora to straddle her lap, so that they were face to face.

When Aurora did not shrug off her hands or refuse the action, she breathed a sigh of relief, and obviously hoped that the evening might be salvageable. "Yes, I knew him from America," she said cautiously.

"God! I knew it!" Aurora crowed, and tugged at her hair. "It's just that... I am so hyped up right now. I feel like my blood is on fire, and it's rushing past my ears. I want to kick something, or punch someone really hard, especially the guy that pulled my wrist," she rambled. "You're just sitting there all calm, and I'm out of my mind! I should want to screw your brains out, because you've been touching me all night and your boobs are-"

"-You're jealous," Maleficent soothed, running her palms over Aurora's puffy curls. They were soaked underneath, and frizzed with the heat from the bar. While her face was serene, her nostrils flared a bit at the scent of sweat and arousal.

Aurora spotted the tell just before she felt a knee nudge at her center, and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Clutching Maleficent's hair in her hands, Aurora yanked, and hard. "You don't play fair," she grumbled.

The tugging didn't elicit a visible reaction, but Maleficent's leg slid forward and back again. "I never said I did," she said slyly. "He was just a friend; one who brought my thoroughly trashed self home more than a few times."

"That's just it! He brought you home, or Elsa did! And where was I? Playing with dolls, or my Easy Bake oven? I should have been there," Aurora cried, the enormity of her statement swelling her emotions until they nearly broached the dam in her heart. "I should have..."

Her rant was cut short by the sweep of a tongue along her bottom lip, seeking permission.

When Aurora didn't return the kiss, Maleficent leaned back in a daze.

"Oh, my only love. _You did_," she asserted. "Don't you know that? You did what they could not do."

A defeated whine burbled from Aurora's mouth, and she collapsed forward to return the kiss at long last. Content noises fell from irresistible lips when she did so, and out of instinct her mouth traveled south. Without thinking, she released the two buttons holding Maleficent's shirt closed, and flicked the front enclosure bra open.

"Aurora," Maleficent warned, but it was pointless. Both of them could hear the need that coated her raspy voice. "We're not home yet."

Placing kisses over the swells of flesh that was revealed with every tug of her fingers, Aurora eventually sat up and contended the need for caution."I don't care, the windows are tinted nearly black. Besides, I want to live, and not give a shit what other people think for once," she swore before nibbling her way up the sweetly scented skin to worship at the altar formed over Maleficent's heart by sinew and bone.

It was cliché, but the evening really had expanded her awareness; not only of her surroundings, but of her own senses and that of her lover. The thudding pulse beneath her fingertips as she traced the planes of Maleficent's chest was fascinating, and it set her own heart racing. The sounds spilling forth from the lipstick-smeared lips echoed through the car when her mouth closed over a pert nipple. Her now-sensitive ears perked at a particularly wanton moan as she laved the arousal further, and grazed her teeth against it.

Aurora had thought dancing blind was an exercise in futility, but the experience had set her aflame. She wasn't sure if she wanted the fire to ever be put out.

Grinding herself along the leg that had teased her earlier, she ran her fingernails along the smooth expanse of Maleficent's stomach, and pressed them into the skin where sharp hips peeked over the edge of the black skirt. It had bunched up well over the gartered stockings with their rocking, and the sight brought Aurora's emotions to a boiling point.

Darting forward, she bit down on the first skin she found purchase against. Beneath her, Maleficent screamed and raked her fingernails down Aurora's back.

"Oh fuck," she groaned as she pulled back. "I'm sor-"

"Did you just bite me on my neck?" Maleficent seethed, and reprimanded her. "You little beast."

"Y-yes..."

Life sprung verdant in her love's eyes, and they flooded with desire. "My brave girl; my amare.

.

.

.

_Do it again._"

* * *

1\. Lille – (Norwegian) "Little one."

2\. Faen alt til helvete – (Norwegian) "Fuck it all to hell," or "Fucking hell."

3\. Herregud – (Norwegian) "My God," or "Lord God." A more polite way to convey the exclamation "Jesus Christ!"

4\. Stella ardens – (Latin) Super nova, or burning star.


	28. Epilogue: Per Aspera ad Astra

**A/N: Hi, readers! This will be the last chapter of ****_Peccatum in Carne_****, unless you count the sequel that should begin in about a month or two. I'll be sure to post an announcement here when the first chapter of ****_Peccatum in Praeteritum_****(Sins of the Past) is posted. Reviews are appreciated immensely, as always. I've truly enjoyed the journey of sharing this tale with you, and hope that you've enjoyed it too.**

**This chapter was beta'ed by the lovely Corchen.**

**Chapter Soundtrack:**

"**Sunrise," by Doug Hammer**

"**Memory," from Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Cats'**

"**Sweet Child of Mine," as sung by Eliza Lumley**

"**Take Me To Church," by Hozier (I prefer the female version, which can be found on my blog and Soundcloud)**

"**I Will Follow," by Eikon**

* * *

**Epilogue: Per Aspera ad Astra ****(Through the Thorns to the Stars)**

* * *

_**.**_

_**Four Years Later**_

_**.**_

* * *

Outside the Federal-style home, there was a type of clarity not often seen by those who slept this part of the day away. Here was where the momentum of life had not yet ensnared the day in its grip, where even the birds were somewhat silent. The sidewalk of P Street NW in Washington, D.C. was not yet filled with walking commuters, their conversations, or their laughter. It was too early to observe their longing glances as they passed by that same person each morning – the one they longed to talk to, but never had – because while the sun was beginning to rise, D.C. was still relatively sleepy at this hour. This city liked to be loud at night, and lazy in the dawn.

Tara knew, because she watched. Almost everyone was still enjoying the diversion of sleep; all of their hopes of hidden romances and hidden agendas entangled in that dreamscape, leaving her world as clean and crisp as a Saturday morning in Autumn ought to be.

She pondered on whether the people here in America had ever truly stopped to wonder at the dawn. Not the kind of dawn that was groggy with hangovers from drowning themselves in gin and tonics, or busy with "adult responsibilities," but the painfully clear part of the morning, full of stillness.

It was the kind of dawn that she could taste, if only for the blandness of it against the foul flavor of stressful, hectic days long in the past. Tara liked the blankness, and the calm. She felt at peace in moments like these, when she could hear Aurora sneaking down the stairs for her morning shift at the hospital, her older sister swearing under her breath when the front door closed louder than anticipated. Aurora would have only just kissed Maleficent goodbye; Maleficent, who at this time of the morning, was snoring softly beneath the duvet in their bedroom. Tara knew, because she listened.

They may have only moved to 2763 P Street NW three weeks ago, but Tara could tell that their routine wouldn't change much, except for the geographic locations of the players in their merry, motley family. At least, she hoped it wouldn't.

Waking early each morning to observe the people that surrounded their home, Tara was intent on fishing out their idiosyncrasies and watching for clues to whom might be the gossips amongst the new neighbors. She had written down the descriptions of two ladies, who appeared to live in side-by-side brownstones a block or so away. They had stopped for longer than the rest on several mornings, and peered at the Moore home for longer than she liked. Nosy good for nothings were the bane of her family's existence in England, and she would ensure that those two ladies would not come back if ever they had the chance to step inside their house.

She would tell Maleficent, and Maleficent would tell Tara that she was good at protecting their family. Such praise made her happiest, and she practically salivated at the opportunity to rat out the ladies' rude curiosity.

When the sun peaked the rooftops across the street, Tara shuffled off of her window-seat, and closed the curtains tight against it. While tip-toeing out of the room, her hands fell over the familiar treasures and quilts brought from England to grace her new room here. When her hand brushed over the old jewelry box that played a tinkling version of "Memory," it squeaked out a few notes. Imagining that the time-stained ballerina in pink inside wanted to be let out, she opened the lid for the figurine to escape and twirl to the last bit of song from being wound last night. Tara grinned at her, and poked the ballerina until she swayed on her spring. This had been Maleficent's jewelry box when she was a girl, and Tara loved no possession more.

While Aurora had wanted to re-decorate her room after the move, Tara insisted vehemently against the idea. She longed for her room in the Middlesbrough cottage; the one that Maleficent had surprised her with on Christmas Eve four years ago, full of sparkly crystal trinkets contrasted by worn-in, well loved throw pillows. The cottage and its spaces were where she had been asked her own opinion on staying with Aurora and Maleficent, and where she'd been overcome with happiness when shown the finalized adoption certificate after many long months of battling in court. She wanted their gardens full of wildflowers, with its permeating scent of lilacs, roses, and evergreens – the place where her sister had glowed with bliss at being married two years ago. While she couldn't have that, keeping her room as much the same as possible was a small comfort.

Padding down the long hallway to the master bedroom, Tara took account of the boxes that had been unpacked while she slept, and nudged some of the empty cardboard out of the way. The shuffling noises didn't stop when she did though, and she realized there were more from inside the bedroom that was her destination. This in of itself was very unusual. Maleficent should be asleep, her eyes hidden beneath a sleep-mask with the white noise machine set on ocean sounds. It was the only way she could sleep without taking medicine, and had done every single night for years.

The heavy sleep brought on by the noise was how Tara had originally gotten away with this ritual. She would wait for Aurora to leave for the day to her university nursing program in York, before creeping down the cottage's hallway to slide into the warm spot left by her sister, next to Maleficent's slumbering form. For weeks, Maleficent paid her no mind, and Tara had been afforded the rare opportunity to enjoy her sleep talking and relaxed, drooling faces. It was so unlike her general demeanor that Tara often found herself holding in belly laughs. Mornings came and went, and Tara would always sneak back to her bedroom undetected before the alarm went off.

That was until the morning she fell asleep.

Tara remembered her shrieking giggles as Maleficent launched "awake" with a ridiculous growl, and wrapped two strong arms around her to tickle mercilessly. She'd known Tara was there every morning, after all. Maleficent didn't mind, but couldn't 'fake sleeping much longer whilst you analyze me like a pinned butterfly' without going crazy – or so she said.

And so, Maleficent's odd friendship that resembled something halfway between sisterly and motherly was offered. Tara took it, running blindly with the joy of having someone who actually cared enough to laugh with her, and cry with her. She had known before then that the woman was nothing if not patient with her, but that morning and the months that followed made her realize how patient Maleficent's love was. Discipline wasn't cold; it was inventive, and often involved a lot of reading and writing lines from books that Tara liked anyway.

In turn Tara strove to be just as patient, especially when Aurora was in class, or when the woman would pace the living room in Middlesbrough while spouting off about her doctoral thesis. Copies of _'The Linguistic Time Capsule – An Approach to Classical Latin Prose in Archaeological Study' _were stacked in a box by the bedroom door, and Tara slid it aside with her foot as she entered.

As she suspected, Maleficent wasn't in bed any longer. She was leaning against the door frame of the en suite bathroom, her mouth full of toothpaste suds.

Tara wasn't sure how Maleficent could scowl while brushing her teeth, but scowl she did. Unused to speaking anything but honestly with each other, she jumped onto the empty bed and blurted out what was on her mind. "Why're you brushin' your teeth?"

Maleficent stopped brushing before she threw her hands up to the heavens, rolling her eyes in a dramatic request for divine strength. She turned back into the bathroom, and finished brushing with the tap on.

It didn't block out the sounds of her sputtering or groaning, and Tara narrowed her eyes at the noises. Laying down to snuggle beneath the duvet, she stared off at the doorway to the bathroom in quiet reflection.

When Maleficent finally emerged, she turned the white-noise machine back on and sunk into the mattress and pillows like they were a lifeline. "Go to sleep and enjoy this while we can, cara. [1] Soon, it will be Monday - with you off to your new school, and I off to work," she drawled, before letting out a very unladylike burp with a wince. "Shit."

Scarcely ever hearing such abject curses from Maleficent's lips, Tara winced right back. Wriggling her way forward, she sighed pleasantly as her sister's wife enfolded her within a warm embrace. "'Rora says I'm getting too old to be bothering you like this in the morning."

"Mmmm," Maleficent hummed disagreeably before running a soothing palm over Tara's frizzy dirty blonde waves. It was evident that she had hit a nerve, or that this was a point of contention between Aurora and the woman that held her and whispered tenderly. "Your sister had to grow up too quickly, and while she forgets it, I don't. Don't try to grow up too fast, sweet girl."

"I still don't understand why you have to work while I'm at school. You haven't worked in years. What if you're late getting back and I'm home alone in the afternoon?" Tara worried aloud, albeit drowsily. Her eyes were drifting shut from the rhythmic breathing of the body beside her, as well as the comforting touches.

"You fret like a barnyard hen," Maleficent muttered. Her hand stilled after a few minutes of silence, and she snored once before jerking back awake to have the final say. "Never you mind about my working. You're twelve years old, Tara Ann. _Be twelve_."

'Be twelve,' Tara mouthed a soundless sass, and went back to sleep.

* * *

By the time Aurora arrived home after her twelve hour shift at Children's National Hospital, the October sun was being snuffed out by rain clouds rolling in off the bay. Relying on her good sense from living in England for most of her life, she escaped the torrential downpour by jogging the last block from the Dupont Circle metro station and onto their tree-lined street.

As the huge double doors of the brick house's atrium shut, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the skies opened up. Out of breath, Aurora huffed and shook out her sweaty curls. They'd been up in a twist all day, and she groaned at the release of tension in her neck and temples. Her nursing residency program for Pediatrics was one of the best in the country, and while she'd worked hard at her RN program in York, one week at Children's had put all three years to shame.

It was one of things she had worried about when accepting a degree program in England instead of moving the family to the States sooner, but Maleficent had insisted that Tara needed time before they turned her sister's world upside down like that. It was just as well, as Maleficent took the time to earn another degree while holing up in the cottage in an attempt to have the world forget about her again. She only emerged for her academic research and advisory sessions at Oxford, but enjoyed taking Tara with her to sneak around like Bond girls. It was a most welcome outcome, however amusing. At first glance all those years ago, Tara had been scared stiff of Maleficent.

After shucking off her trainers and hanging up her jacket, Aurora gasped and then laughed out loud. Frisky hands had made their way around her waist, walking fingers over her stomach as a sultry voice blew in her ear.

"You're finally home," Maleficent stated the obvious, before gripping more forcefully at the front of Aurora's scrub shirt.

Tugging the grabby hands from her clothing with another giggle, Aurora spun around to meet her wife face to face. Kissing her soundly, she was still surprised that Maleficent deepened it and pressed her against the wall with a kind of hungry fervor.

Drawing back for air when her love found nibbling along her jawline to suck at her earlobe vastly more interesting, Aurora groaned at the probability of being interrupted. "Tara... where's Tara?"

Maleficent dragged her teeth off her earlobe slowly, and with an audible grumble. Gesturing out the front door, she rolled her eyes and tsked as if mildly offended. "Amare, honestly. The girls she met at the park when we walked last weekend are having a sleepover tonight. They all go to Georgetown Visitation, [2] and I thought it prudent for her to get a head start on socializing."

Her cheeks warming with both a swell relief and a ruddy blush, Aurora bit her lip and stared up at Maleficent. The kiss had left her lips deliciously swollen, and though it was so very tempting for Aurora to continue on, the way her own body yearned to, she refused to give in until all the facts had been ferreted out. "How much did you bribe her with to actually converse with real, live people instead of spending the entire day rolling around in a pile of her books – ten dollars?"

Pursing her lips together, Maleficent looked somewhat abashed. "Twenty, American."

"Twenty!" Aurora howled, and planted her feet to keep from running after the scamp known as her little sister, even though she knew the twelve-year-old to be long gone by this point. "You spoil her, Maleficent."

Not disputing the fact whatsoever, Maleficent merely nodded. Her eyes zeroed back in on Aurora's neck, and glittered dangerously. "I could spoil you properly too, if you'd allow me to do so," she enunciated each word like they were ammunition against the invisible shield of Aurora's ire.

That mind-numbing, toe-curling, sinful voice was the one thing that could convince Aurora to yield, no matter how angry she was, or seemed to be. It was the same voice that melted her into a puddle six years ago; first in a Latin classroom, and then nine months later beneath a tree in the woods. Still, Aurora wasn't eighteen anymore – she was twenty-three, and had gone many rounds of this kind with her wife by this point. "You think so, do you?"

"I do, indeed," was the confident response as Maleficent shrugged off her simple black wrap dress, and let it pool onto the floor. Wearing only her underwear, she marched proudly up the stairs.

Sputtering her disbelief at the action, Aurora waved her arms around, as though she could block the neighbors' view through the sidelights in the front door and wide living room windows. "Mal!" she hissed, and jogged up the stairs after her infuriatingly naughty wife under the guise of a magnificent goddess. "What is it about this city that turns you into... this!?"

With a cheshire grin, Maleficent waited just inside the door of their bedroom. Once Aurora had entered, she took the opportunity to pounce. They tumbled into a heap, and Maleficent gave the most wanton look of lust she could muster.

"Oh, stop complaining," she commanded airily, and fixed Aurora with her gaze. "Are you honestly _complaining_ about five times in three weeks?"

"N-No," Aurora backtracked, entranced by the honeyed green eyes that stared attentively. Unable to hold the gaze, her eyes fell to Maleficent's chest. It was already heaving with pent-up arousal, if the tightly pebbled nipples were any clue.

"Quite the contrary, really. I just don't want to share the view with the neighbors," she smiled sheepishly, and reached forward to cup her breasts and stroke the silky skin beneath them. When Maleficent's breath hitched at the touch, Aurora allowed her hands to fall away. Grabbing the bottom of her scrub shirt, she lifted it over her head in one fluid motion, and then unclasped her bra. "Would you?"

Maleficent didn't answer straightaway, preferring to crawl forward like a cat stalking trapped prey. Settling herself over one of Aurora's thighs, she then continued where she'd been forced to leave off downstairs, alternately kissing and biting at her collarbone, neck, and up to her ear. Once there, she finally replied. "Possessive, are we?" she chuckled sardonically, and bit down on Aurora's lobe again.

Beneath the onslaught, Aurora writhed. There was a feral quality to Maleficent's tone and actions tonight, and the promise of more sent shivers through her body. When she realized that her scrub pants were soaked through on the thigh, and where the warmth was originating from, her head lolled forward with a choked moan. Out of instinct, one of her hands wandered from traveling over the planes of Maleficent's back to roll a taut nipple between her fingers, and the other moved to caress the damp heat grinding her thigh. Underwear be damned, at this point nothing would stop her, short of Maleficent telling her no.

Maleficent didn't, and threw her head back with a throaty, plaintive cry as she shifted her hips forward and down.

"Dear God," Aurora croaked, and thumped her head back against the bedroom wall at the sight. "I don't care why you've been insatiable anymore. You're so beautiful right now."

Scorching hot stickiness collected in her palm to roll down her wrist, but Aurora didn't slow her responsive pace. Squeezing her thighs together helped to relieve some of the ache that grew between her legs, but not much. Over time, it only ended up amplifying the ache, and sent it in vine-like tendrils to wind down her thighs and up into her stomach. The consistent moaning and curse words spilling from her wife's lips in between sharp inhalations didn't help either, especially when Maleficent laid her forehead against Aurora's to kiss between the moans instead.

Eventually, both of Maleficent's hands slapped and gripped at the wall for leverage, and Aurora found her free hand grasping a sharp hip to steady their very erratic rhythm. Her throat felt tight with emotion at watching her love taking what she needed, glowing from the very top of her mahogany tressed head and down to her toes. She encouraged her, for it was so rare that Maleficent allowed herself to come fully undone in such a fashion.

Aurora felt equally captivated and in control, and it excited her to the point of toppling off the edge herself. Her hand had long gone numb; for lack of thought or from being clenched so tightly, Aurora wasn't sure. She couldn't find it in her heart to care, either. "Oh please, darling. Take it – it's yours," she whimpered, goading the radiant woman on.

Doing as she was begged, Maleficent moved her head downwards to rest against Aurora's shoulder. Her face scrunched into a silent scream before relaxing into a release so loud it raised the hair on the back of Aurora's neck.

After the expected panting, there was a whisper near Aurora's ear; so very quiet that the winds and thumping of fat raindrops against their window almost drowned it out. "What?" she gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she moved to cradle the woman who had protected her all these years into her arms. "Truly?"

"Mmm-hmm," Maleficent replied - a little dreamy, and still fairly boneless. She shrugged out of the coddling hold after a few moments, clearly uncomfortable with the message behind it and the memories it brought forth.

Aurora knew that it felt silly to Maleficent for allowing it for as long as she had, but that a small part of her craved it. The larger part of her wife appeared to be invincible these days; stronger than she had been in years.

Brushing her thumb along Aurora's cheek to dry a tear, Maleficent leaned in for another kiss. She seemed to savor it slowly in an attempt to convey all of the words she wished to but couldn't without admitting some form of duality.

While Aurora claimed to understand, there were days that even Maleficent could not fully comprehend her own mind and heart. Reflecting on it for too long just made the woman irritable. She would much rather focus on her, and Aurora reveled in the indulgence of being at the center of her love's attention once more.

As though she could hear the thoughts, Maleficent granted a brilliant smile; the kind she did for only one person. She ran her hand through Aurora's messy blonde curls, and made her wish aloud. "Your turn, amare."

* * *

Monday morning meant that it was Tara's first day at her new school. As she dressed, it seemed just like every Monday had been in England, and for that she was grateful. Wearing a school uniform was nothing new to her, and she tucked a band t-shirt into her bag to change from her ugly buttercup yellow polo once the last bell rang. To combat the sheer fashion atrocity that was the shirt and a green plaid skirt, she slipped on her cutaway military-style jacket with the braided trim over her shirt, and buttoned it up as far as it could go.

The knee socks were another matter entirely, and Tara openly grimaced at them when she leaned down to put on her shoes. At least Maleficent had lent her a pair of soft woolen ones, with pretty details woven into the sides.

The usual smell of coffee and tea brewing was in the air, as well as eggs already cooked. Before stomping her way down the grand staircase of their new home, Tara paused. Feeling a bit giddy, she had the idea of making an entrance to suit the home's wide, curving stairs. Lifting each leg in time like she was marching, she went down slowly _and_ grandly.

Three stairs from the bottom, she noticed Maleficent standing off to the side, camera at the ready. Before she could protest, the digital had snapped off at least ten photographs.

"You didn't!" she yelped, and scurried the rest of the way into the foyer. They had this fight every year, but somehow this time felt different. "Mal, don't!"

Lifting the camera above her head, Maleficent smirked. "I did, and I shall. Whatever will we send to Harold and Irene to show them that you are still alive and well fed?"

"Any-" huff. "-thing!" jump. "-but that!" Tara squealed, dancing around the statuesque figure of her best friend in the world until _now._ "Don't tease!"

"All right, all right," Maleficent capitulated, leaning away from her grasping hands.

Once Tara stopped hopping, she held the camera out with a sad smile. "Go on and delete them. They're only the first pictures I have of you here."

With those words, any exasperation Tara felt bubbling in her chest left with a whoosh of breath. She visibly deflated, and pouted at Maleficent's manipulative dig. Rather than deleting the photos, she shoved the camera-laden hand back before turning on her heel to lift her backpack.

"'Rora, I have to be at the dean's office by 8:00!" she yelled down the hallway, towards the kitchen. "We still have to walk Mal to the train station, and then catch the bus to my school!"

On cue, a frazzled and tired Aurora emerged from the kitchen, her hands full of paper bags containing egg sandwiches. These she tossed at both Maleficent and Tara, along with a glare full of warning for the argument she sensed brewing. "I heard you, Tara Ann Rose-" she grumbled, "-_and you, _Maleficent."

An eerie, artificial calm descended on the foyer in respect for Aurora's half-hearted scolding, and Tara summarily stuffed the breakfast into her messenger bag. The last thing she wanted was for the day to start badly, and began to blush for what she considered acting like a baby over some stupid photographs. While it might be true that Maleficent could be artful in the way she molded the actions of those around her, Tara thought that her original judgment of manipulation was harsh. She'd just been so _mad_.

Maleficent had already slipped on a pair of low heels, and was lacing the sides of a lovely black tweed suit jacket to tighten it around her shape. Tara had never seen the garment on her before, and quirked her head at it.

"S'that new? It's pretty," she hedged, and tried to appear apologetic. No matter how hard she tried, this one emotion nearly always escaped her better attempts.

"You're baring your teeth at me like an animal, and therefore I must only suppose you are sorry," Maleficent murmured softly, not meeting her eye. Turning away, she slid a requisite leatherette satchel over her shoulder.

Other people like her Aunt Elsa might have snapped such a statement, but Tara knew that Maleficent's quiet disappointment was meant to hurt worse than a thousand hotheaded words. Flinching at the rebuke, she closed her lips and frowned.

From within the coat cupboard, Aurora mumbled underneath her breath and tsked about Maleficent being too harsh, and Tara acting like a certain someone she would not name. She had always refused to name them over the years, but Tara was smart enough to make the inference.

She should cry like other children her age, but found that tears were absent. Her logical mind took stock of her friend's demeanor as an alternative – especially Maleficent's slightly hunched over, tense shoulders, and wide eyes. Neither of them wanted their days full of books, music, gardening, and lazing about to end, but she had never considered that Maleficent might miss the routine quite so much.

Tara never considered that Maleficent might be just as scared, either. Walking over to the woman that studiously ignored her, she then stuffed herself beneath a heavy arm to burrow, and sought an embrace.

As Tara buried her face into the textured fabric of the jacket, she breathed deeply. It smelled every bit as much like the rest of Maleficent's clothing – that cloying scent of fresh flowers and laundry hung to dry after a summer rain. Suddenly, their imminent separation had her pinned beneath a wave of melancholy, and she burbled a sob into Maleficent's chest.

"Oh, cara," an equally dispirited voice echoed beside the thump of a heart. "I am sorry, too."

Aurora's hands extricated her from the hug, and Tara watched as Maleficent shrugged her bag higher onto a shoulder before leaning in to kiss her sister.

Owing to her nervousness, Maleficent kept it chaste, and fished a Metro Line map out of the outside pocket of her bag. "I'll walk myself to the station, since we're even later than expected." She pointed at a Red line, and followed it with her index finger from the Dupont Circle station to the Metro Center station, where it branched off onto a Silver line to the Smithsonian. "If there's an emergency that requires either of you to reach me in person, this is the way. To Tara's school, it's a bit different. From Dupont, you'll walk a block East to Q Street and Connecticut Avenue NW. Take the D2 bus to the intersection of NW Q Street and NW 35th Street. The school is just nearby."

Smiling with her ubiquitous sunny disposition at the directions, Aurora nodded that she understood before leaning in to place a gentle hand against Maleficent's waist. "I love you, _Mrs._ Moore. Have a good day at work?"

Observing as she did, Tara noticed the newer show of affection. Her lower lip quivered under its own accord as she looked from her sister and to Maleficent, and back again. Everything was going too fast for her to keep up.

She'd had enough. The Smithsonian and its dopey, boring Museum of Natural History could take a hike. "I don't want this. I don't want things to change," she interrupted and held up her hands, clasped in pleading. They didn't need Maleficent like her family did.

Cupping her hand around Tara's cheek, Maleficent gave a tight-lipped mimicry of a smile. Her eyes were too full of apprehension for it to be, but it was a good try. "Noctis expectatione perdunt diem. De nocte, et timorem aurorae." [3] she reminded.

Aware that her begging was doing no good, Tara's hands fell to her sides and clenched. "I'm not afraid of the dawn," she countered stubbornly.

"Good. That's good, cara meae. Be brave," Maleficent reassured her, and backed away. She looked over Tara's head with a wordless, knowing expression towards Aurora, and walked through the front door.

With one last look over her shoulder, she blew a kiss goodbye.

* * *

1\. Cara/cara meae (Latin) – Baby, as in "the baby," or "my sweetheart." An affectionate term for someone you are mollycoddling.

2\. Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School – an all-girls school located in Washington, D.C., and considered one of the best in the area. Originally Roman Catholic, the student base is now quite diverse, as well as the teaching staff.

3\. (Latin) "They lose the day in expectation of the night, and the night in fear of the dawn." - Seneca. In essence: do not allow your fears to keep you from living a full life.


	29. Outtake 1: Devotio (Devotion)

**A/N: By special request - Aurora and Maleficent are married in the garden of the cottage. **

**Set two years after the end of Peccatum in Carne, not including the epilogue.**

**Soundtrack:**

**"Crystal," by Stevie Nicks**

* * *

**Devotio (Devotion)**

* * *

The oohs and aahs echoing from Tara's bedroom down the hall where Aurora was getting ready had Elsa's head turning in that direction every few minutes, but Maleficent stared steadfastly into the mirror of her dressing table. Clearing her throat got her best friend's attention once more, and Maleficent tried to aim her baleful glare at the ceiling instead of the startled blue eyes that looked into the mirror from behind her.

"Are you going to help me, or did you fly twenty-one hours to be distracted by women gushing over Aurora?" she snapped, and studied her nails in an effort to ignore a flaring blush at her outburst.

A hand squeezed her shoulder gently, and before Maleficent could protest, that Elsa stuffed herself onto the bench beside her.

"That kind of temper is usually reserved for when you're nervous," Elsa teased while nudging their shoulders together. "You aren't nervous, are you? You're the one that proposed on Christmas morning two years ago, and stole the poor girl's thunder."

"That was a promise ring," Maleficent muttered. "If you're going to natter on about my stealing anything, rewind seven months from Christmas, and tell the story right."

"You stole her heart long before that May, and you know it Mallie," Elsa bit back, and took one of Maleficent's hands that were rubbing lotion in a wringing motion for far longer than needed. "Anyway, she wouldn't let you get her another ring. Aurora knew what you meant by it – same as you wear the ring set that she got for you that year."

With an irritated huff, Maleficent stopped and turned to face her confidante for the better part of twelve years. Though it pained her confess it, being honest with Elsa was far easier than anyone else, save her fiancee. "I'm sorry for being difficult. If you must know, of cour-" she choked a bit on her admission. Shaking her head, she began again. "Of course I'm nervous."

Shaking her head right back, Elsa changed the subject. "I know what you need!" she snapped her fingers, and stood up. "You need to get ready. Then if I have to chase you, other people will help me."

"And why would they help you do that?" Maleficent drawled, and rolled her eyes at the flawed logic.

"Nobody likes to see a runaway bride," Elsa retorted. After wandering over to the walk in wardrobe, she unzipped the dress bag that hung from the door, and fluffed out the silk gown with lace overlay.

It was form-fitted, with a plunging neckline, but to her eye somewhat plain for a wedding dress. That was the way Maleficent had wanted it. She didn't much care for the idea of everyone staring at her today, and preferred the spotlight on the one whom she considered far more deserving of it. The only thing that gave the dress away was the color – white.

Taking it off of the hanger, Elsa bunched the bodice in her hands and held it out. With a resolute grimace, she turned to see Maleficent already standing in the middle of the bedroom, her arms stretched upwards.

Maleficent decided to play nice – whatever that meant for today – and conceded that Elsa might be a little bit correct. Perhaps if she put the dress on without issue, the tension gnawing at her gut may be abated. Without another word, Elsa had rushed forward to stuff the dress over her arms, and tugged it down once Maleficent had slipped the straps over her shoulders. As the flurry of pale blue chiffon and braided blonde hair moved behind her to zip up the dress, she pulled her hair over a shoulder to assist.

"At least you're wearing white today. I had expected you to do something more non-traditional," Elsa murmured. "You wore red to my wedding, for Gud's sakes."

Tsking at the semi-accusation, Maleficent brushed her fingers along imaginary imperfections on the dress bodice. "It was burgundy, I'll have you know. Aurora convinced me that wearing black would be too disrespectful."

Elsa tugged at the back of the dress more harshly than was needed to fit the clasp together securely, and Maleficent hissed. She heard the smile when the woman issued her own reply – verbally this time.

"I don't pretend to know why you and my wife don't get on. You never have."

"I didn't disapprove of your choice of bride, Els'," Maleficent chuckled. "We just disapprove of each other in general."

Crouching down carefully to slip a pair of low-heeled satin sandals onto Maleficent's feet, Elsa spoke under her breath, but loud enough to hear. "You make absolutely no sense some days, Mallie."

It may have been true that her statement made no sense to Elsa, but Maleficent knew that the only thing that made sense to her today was seeing Aurora at the end of the pathway to their garden. Everything else in her mind was a jumbled mess, and so she let the statement slide.

After wriggling her toes to secure her step, she walked forward to the dressing table and opened the top drawer to reveal a pair of folded black opera gloves. These Maleficent took out, and slid them fluidly up each arm. They would be her only adornment, and she'd set her mind to it long ago.

"I knew it!" Elsa crowed from her spot a few feet away, her face screwed up in distaste. "Black leather gloves on your wedding day, and not a stitch of jewelry besides your rings. Only_ you _would do such a thing."

An ear-splitting screech and a door creaking open sounded from the other side of the cottage, and while Elsa winced at it, Maleficent grinned.

"Three… two… one…" she counted aloud, and the noisy pounding of little feet stopped just outside her door.

"Maleficent, she's so beautiful!" Tara yelped. "See you outside!"

* * *

The day had passed in such a whirlwind that Aurora could scarcely believe it happened. Primped and polished to the point of frustration by her friends from university, Serena, and Eileen, Aurora only considered the job done once she had received a hug and a teary kiss from her sister Tara before the ten-year-old tore down the hallway in a blur of barely-there pink gossamer to yell at Maleficent through their bedroom door.

Tara's flower girl dress had been a nod to Aurora's own gown, which was a dreamy confection of tea stained layers of sheer fabric and roses everywhere. It floated behind her when she walked, and made her feel like something out of a fairytale. Maleficent had agreed with that assessment to a degree.

"_You look like a fairy princess," the vision in stark, simple white declared before Aurora could catch her breath from walking down the garden's improvised aisle. Maleficent's lips were bare, but her smile had been blinding as she'd walked towards her._

_Handing her bouquet over to Tara, Aurora sidled up next to Maleficent under the gazebo. It had been her birthday present last year, and she couldn't imagine being married anywhere else. Her hand slipped into Maleficent's, and she was startled by the touch of buttery-soft leather beneath her fingers._

_Looking down, Aurora spied a row of buttons along Maleficent's wrist, and internally sighed in relief that she would still get to put a wedding band on her love's hand. She tried to suppress a smirk at the black gloves, which were a complete surprise to her until this moment. "Then make a queen out of me," she set the challenge quietly, thinking that only Maleficent would hear her._

_Apparently, the registrar marrying them did as well, and he blanched and stuttered over the first few lines of the ceremony. That brought gales of laughter from their small gathering of twenty-or-so friends and chosen family, and Aurora had blushed deeply as she realized that her whispering carried quite far in the peaceful outdoors. _

"_Whoo, 'Rora!" Serena chortled behind her hand, and a new wave of titters broke through the guests._

The happiness and frivolity were contagious, and even Maleficent had not been able to resist it. Aurora's cheeks hurt from smiling so much – from the way Eileen had read a poem she couldn't remember, and how Maleficent knew exactly what to say for her own written vows to make her heart melt. This she remembered, and would for all time.

"_Ego dilecto meo, et dilectus meus mihi,"_ _she promised, tears flowing freely down her sharp cheeks. Making no move to wipe the tears away, Maleficent slid a ring onto Aurora's finger, where forever it would stay. "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine."_

Finally, they were alone. With Tara gone with Elsa to her hotel and the guests dispersed, Maleficent recited those words with more confidence than ever, and without tears.

Kissing along the back of Aurora's neck as she unzipped her dress, Maleficent said them over and over against her overheated skin. The breathy words did nothing to cool Aurora, but they did send shivers of pleasure down her body as they fanned over her spine. With each inch of her back revealed, the ritual began anew.

Becoming impatient with the heady emotions swirling her heart, Aurora turned around and motioned for Maleficent to do the same. To this request, Maleficent shook her head and gave a lascivious smile – the one that never failed to make Aurora's hair stand on end.

Stepping away, Maleficent reached behind her back to expertly unclasp and unzip her own dress. It fell away from her chest, revealing the undergarments, or lack thereof, covering the swell of her breasts.

Aurora stared, both intrigued and transfixed at the new corsetry and how her wife's every breath made dusky peaks appear over the edge of the low cut damask and lace.

Wife. The word had elicited giddy feelings earlier in the day, and if Aurora was being honest with herself, nervous excitement. Now, it only served to make her heart race in a different way. All at once, she was flooded with understanding; of the devotion that so many wrote sonnets about. It was just a word, and yet—

"Wife," she whispered it, tasting the novelty and sweetness as the endearment rolled over her tongue.

"Yes?" Maleficent replied, an amused quirk catching the corner of her smiling lips. She stepped out of the dress as the white silk pooled at her feet, and made to take off the black leather opera gloves she'd worn with it.

Biting her lip in response, Aurora's mind raced. She wondered why an action so simple as taking off a dress - something she had seen Maleficent do a thousand times – some how meant more tonight. Her mouth was even faster than her mind it seemed, and rambled the next thought before she could stop it.

"Leave the gloves on," she commanded, more forcefully than she'd ever dared. It was a bold move, and Aurora's breath hitched in anticipation for what might come of it.

Maleficent's eyes glinted in the dim light of the candles someone had lit on every surface before leaving earlier. Stalking forward, she blew them out one by one as she passed, until only the few on the dressing table remained. At long last, her slow steps brought her to Aurora once more, and she curved her thumbs inside the frothy gown at the hip.

Tugging it down ever so gently, Maleficent placed a reverent kiss to Aurora's lips when the dress fell to the floor. Unlike her wife, Aurora had foregone wearing anything except the sliver of lace that she could hardly call panties.

Surveying the view with an eyebrow that rose higher and higher, Maleficent then leaned over to blow the last of the candles out. "As my Queen wishes," she acknowledged succinctly, her voice growing deeper with each word spoken.

Aurora pressed her lips together to keep from gaping in awe at the turnaround. It wasn't as if she had never taken the initiative with their lovemaking, but this was entirely different.

Maleficent seemed to sense the hesitation, and reached forward with a gloved hand to caress her cheek. Leaning into the offered comfort, Aurora's eyelids fluttered closed, and she sighed.

The feather-light touch moved then; stroking down the side of her neck, over the curve of her breasts, and lower. Her desire to see outweighed Aurora's momentary embarrassment, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Maleficent crouch down to kneel.

"You didn't laugh, not even a little bit," Aurora uttered huskily, unable to control the tenor of her voice as her love ran soft fingertips over the edge of her hips until they reached the apex of her thighs. Once at their destination, Maleficent's fingers delved behind the soaked strip of lace covering her.

"Amare…" Maleficent reassured her before pressing a thumb more firmly against Aurora's slick flesh, rubbing in a circular motion until she had brought forth a moan. "One ought never laugh at their Queen, especially when that woman is their wife."

Gasping as a gloved finger delved teasingly, Aurora's instinct took over. Bolstered by the declaration a moment ago, her hand shot forward to tangle fingers into Maleficent's hair, and she gave a tug.

Maleficent looked upwards, her expression passionate and knowing. Leaning in to move the lace aside with her teeth, her mouth then pressed where a hand had been only moments before. "As my Queen wishes," she repeated, the vibrations sending delicious jolts of pleasure everywhere.

Aurora's head fell back against the wall, and her hand gripped the silky hair more harshly yet as she issued forth another command. "More. Don't ever stop."

If this was marriage, then she could become accustomed to it very quickly. Oh yes, this she could get used to.


	30. Nuntiatum (Announcement)

**Nuntiatum (Announcement)**

* * *

Exciting news! The prologue for the sequel to _Peccatum in Carne_, titled _Peccatum in Praeteritum_ (Sins of the Past,) is now up and available. Chapter One should be up within a few days, and after a few chapters have been posted, I will remove this announcement.

As such, please bookmark _Peccatum in Praeteritum_ in the coming days, even if you're not ready to read it yet. Have a great week, and thank you for your faithful and continued readership!

Warmly,

Coco Mingo


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